The District
by ILoVeWicked
Summary: A camera crew films a documentary following the everyday lives of office employees in the District Twelve branch of Panem Electric Company. Led by their belligerent manager, Haymitch Abernathy, egos clash, chaos ensues, sparks fly…and hardly any work gets done. Modern AU inspired by The Office.
1. Year One: Welcome to District 12!

**A/N: Hi everyone and welcome to _The District_! This is an ambitious endeavor, but I am a huge fan of both _The Hunger Games_ and _The Office_ , so I thought I would try my hand at writing something humorous and combining two great loves in my life! This fic will contain themes and plots from both fandoms (some heavily borrowed and others mere references). For example, this episode mirrors the pilot of both the British and US Office, but it won't always be that way. I'll borrow certain lines, themes, or characteristics of people from both, and this will loosely follow the timeline of the television show, but it is not a strict retelling of two stories you may already know _._ This will ultimately be _Hunger Games_ characters transposed into an office setting, so if you have watched _The Office_ , you'll recognize the parallels. If you haven't watched the series and you just want to try a humorous AU, I've structured it that way so that it's easier to read. I'm extremely nervous about putting this out there, so your feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated! **

**Thank you and enjoy _The District_! **

**** Additional note: So the use of random italic sections don't throw people off, these are meant to take characters privately out of the action, in what the mockumentary-type shows call "Talking Heads" (which I've just delineated as private interviews). It shouldn't be too confusing, but just in case it was at all, I wanted to clarify!**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both _The Hunger Games_ and _The Office (US)_ belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made (ie: Real Housewives, the song 'Girl on Fire', or Geico...you get it) in this chapter.**

 **Year One, Episode One: Welcome to District 12!**

Haymitch Abernathy is extremely hungover when a film documentary crew arrives on his condo doorstep one particularly chilly September morning.

Therefore, Haymitch Abernathy is extremely pissed off when a film documentary crew arrives on his condo doorstep one particularly chilly September morning.

Donning nothing but a pair of unclean boxers and gripping the neck of a beer bottle, he shouts several unsavory phrases at the cameras. His choice wording raises a few red censorship flags.

One of his snarkier comments causes Haymitch to burst into a fit of laughter. When asked by one of the crewmen if 'Hungover Guy' was an impression or a bit to break the ice with the camera crew, Haymitch stops laughing and replaces his smile with the world's most terrifying scowl.

Before Haymitch can throw an empty bottle at the intruders, the director, Cressida, has to remind him that they are, in fact, the very same film crew he had spoken with on the phone just a week ago, when he agreed to filming a documentary.

The documentary, Cressida re-explains to Haymitch, is a ten-year project that will chronicle the daily lives of the twelfth office branch of Panem Electric, a small company that sells coal-powered electric. She then recaps how they discussed that District Twelve is located in eastern Pennsylvania, just outside of the city of Allentown, and how Haymitch had repeatedly told Cressida the "fun fact" that Allentown is the third largest city in Pennsylvania over the phone as well.

With a nervous glance into the camera, Haymitch, the regional manager of the branch, begins to laugh.

"Oh, yeah. I remember you now. You're the one who had to look up my fun fact about Allentown because you didn't believe me. Damn, I must have been plastered last week when I agreed to this! You also must have sounded hotter on the phone, Goldilocks, because I wouldn't have agreed to this otherwise," Haymitch tells the director plainly. "Well, on with the show! I'll go put on some clothes."

Cressida steps back behind the camera and vows to stay there going forward.

* * *

"Welcome, welcome! So lovely to have you all here at our District office!" a bubbly woman, clad head to toe in frills and sequins, greets the crew as soon as they walk through the door of Panem Electric. She is flaunting what appears to be a freshly-done (at home) orange hair-dye job.

Haymitch is quick to push her away.

"Get outta here, Trinket…wait your turn in the annex where you belong, you technicolored waste of space," Haymitch hisses. Several of those seated at their desks turn to view the altercation, while others ignore it entirely. From the looks of it, this kind of banter between the two is normal.

The woman huffs and shouts back, "Manners, Haymitch! We have been over this many times. You cannot behave like this in the workplace, especially to a woman!"

He turns to the camera and jabs a thumb at the jilted woman. "She's from HR. She's the worst. Bane of my existence, to be exact."

"Thank you, Haymitch, for humiliating me in front of everyone."

"My pleasure, Princess."

"And would it kill you to be on time for work? You know, we have a very tight schedule to adhere to around here."

"Great, glad to hear it, but I'm the boss. You work for Human Resources. I do what I want, and you have no say..."

"Actually, I do have a say..."

"Point is, Princess, I'm fun, you're not. Lesson's up. Back to the annex, Effie."

Haymitch takes one of the bright orange curls in between his fingers. "And what on earth did you do to your head? You look like a goddamn bottle of Sunny D."

Effie juts out her lower lip and recoils from his touch.

"The bottle said that the color was supposed to be Sun-Kissed Tangerine."

Haymitch hoots and hollers at this. "There's _nothing_ sun-kissed about that shade of tangerine, Trinket. Now scoot!"

She leaves, but not without an overly-dramatic pout, followed by an exit that achieves its goal of getting most of the office's attention.

A blue-eyed young man with shaggy blonde hair has been exchanging a series of knowing smirks with the girl at the reception desk. When Effie storms past him, a whirling dervish of orange and sequins, the man swivels in his desk chair and immediately looks into the camera with a face that seems to say he cannot offer any explanation.

* * *

Haymitch steps into his personal office and motions for the cameras to follow him. The crew decides to take a moment to peek into the boss' office for the first time. It is sparsely decorated, save a few knick-knacks on his desk, and the floor is mostly littered with discarded bottles.

The camera lingers on the leather notebook reading 'Diary' on the front cover. It has been left unattended on Haymitch's desk.

When Haymitch spots where the cameras are trained, he claims that the diary is really "a book of strategies and ideas for his memoirs". He mutters something about a screenplay under his breath.

The same blonde man from before enters the office, only knocking on the doorframe after the fact. He wears khaki pants and a light blue dress shirt with a complementing royal blue tie. The sleeves of the shirt have been rolled up to the crooks of his elbows. His appearance reflects a well-maintained appearance of caring just enough to scrape by and genuine disinterest.

"Ah, Peeta Mellark, one of our salesmen here at Panem. Competent, handsome, but unmotivated as hell, this guy!" Haymitch announces. The man, Peeta, glances nervously at the cameras before returning to the task at hand.

"I just got off the phone with the Lehigh Valley School District Superintendent, and I, um, couldn't close the sale," Peeta explains sheepishly. His stare volleys between the camera and Haymitch, as if he is afraid of the lack of motivation that Haymitch exploited will be associated with the sale.

"And where are they thinking of going instead?"

"PPL."

Haymitch hisses a single "Dammit!" before explaining that PPL, the main electric provider for their the area, is known around the office as the "Big, Bad Guy". Peeta mutters that only Haymitch calls them by that name.

The cameras train themselves again on Haymitch, who now grins at Peeta, despite the disappointing news.

"Did you try any of the selling strategies we discussed in yesterday's meeting?"

Peeta's weight shifts from one foot to another.

"While those strategies were great, that's not really my selling style."

Haymitch leans back in his chair and lets out a cackle.

"Boy, you wouldn't know _style_ if a J Crew Magazine bit you on your lazy ass. Watch and learn from the master, young grasshopper."

He then sits forward and begins dialing a number into his phone.

* * *

 _When asked about his management techniques in a private interview, Haymitch responded:_

" _Some would say that people 'aren't my thing'. But selling coal is my thing. Being a boss, in both the literal and cool senses of the word, is my thing. Sometimes not wearing shoes in the office is my thing. I like to consider myself a mentor to everyone here, guiding them while overseeing them. Occasionally offering nuggets, like turds or, or like skipping stones, of golden advice. I'm like a wiser, more attractive, single version of the dad in the_ Cheaper by the Dozen _movies_ _. Great films."_

* * *

"You have a very simple task to do: sell. Oldest trick in the book: don't run right into the mouth of the sale. That's what they want, that's what they expect. Run away for a bit, get as far away as possible."

"That's…that can't be right," Peeta observes. Before he can add anything else, Haymitch holds up a single finger and begins to talk sweetly to the previously discussed Superintendent, Clara Brown.

* * *

 _When asked in a private interview about Haymitch's sales strategies, Peeta Mellark explains that they are all as convoluted as the one Haymitch explained to him in his office._

" _Other strategies include: Buddying Up, Giving Them Something to Root For, Pre-Game Your Calls—which went over_ really _well with HR—Play Your Part, Remember Who Your Enemy Is, and my personal favorite, Stay Alive," Peeta elaborates with a shrug. "Couldn't tell you what a single one of them actually means or what it has to do with selling coal-powered electric plans, but boy, are those titles catchy."_

 _He then tells the cameras that as a boss, Haymitch is ninety-five percent alcohol and five percent straight out nonsense._

* * *

"Clara! How are you, Beautiful?...How are the grandkids?...Good to hear. Listen, I heard you're thinking about switching over to the Big, Bad Guy...PPL…I know, you just spoke with him, but I thought we could talk now, Superintendent to Manager. I'm not about to run away so quickly…"

Peeta jams his hands into his pockets, clearly very uncomfortable as he continues to be forced to watch his boss haggle with the woman on the other end, not to mention contradict his previous advice to 'get as far away as possible'.

"Now, listen here, Ms. Brown…I understand, but…" Haymitch suddenly scowls, and he pounds a fist on his desk. Speaking in a threatening tone, he continues to bargain.

"Alright, you old hag, here's what we're gonna do. My salesman, Peeta Mellark, is going to call you back up tomorrow and offer you twenty-five percent off on your first month of heating this year, and you're going to like it. I'm giving you and your school brats something to root for here, Ms. Brown, like young love, or accidentally not getting charged for guacamole at Chipotle…Excellent! You'll be hearing from us tomorrow."

There is no containing the smug look that crosses Haymitch's face when he hangs up the phone and stares up at Peeta, whose jaw is wide open in utter disbelief.

* * *

 _After being asked about his job responsibilities as a salesman at Panem, Peeta Mellark's eyes glaze over as he stares off, beyond the camera. He seems to have been thrown off entirely by what the doc crew thought was a seemingly simple question._

" _My job consists of speaking to clients over the phone about packages of electric plans, and types of coal…whether we can supply it or they can, uh, pay for it…and, um…" He smiles, a lop-sided, charming grin. "Gosh, I'm boring myself just talking about it."_

* * *

Back in Haymitch's office, where Peeta is still getting the low-down on why that sale just happened, another man stands at the door. He has a bag slung over the shoulder of his pressed suit. His expression makes it apparent that this is his first time in the office.

"Well, well, well, what have we got here? A straggler? A burglar? God, you're massive," Haymitch announces, calling attention to the tall, burly man scowling at his door.

The man tries to get a word in edgewise, but Haymitch isn't done with making comments.

"You look like you could kill me in my sleep, but I'd let it happen, because you're an attractive guy. _Really_ attractive…not that I…but are you a model? Maybe you're a bounty hunter. They're always pretty attractive in a rugged, you-never-see-it-coming kind of way. Right, Peeta."

"I'm not answering that," the blonde replies.

At this point, Haymitch is knee-deep in a borderline offensive imitation of the Crocodile Hunter. Peeta exchanges a helpless glance with the newcomer. Off-the-mark, teasing impressions like these, it seems, are not out of the ordinary for the regional manager of District Twelve's branch.

Once Haymitch is out of possible occupations, the man at the door clears his throat and begins to speak.

"Oh, I'm Gale Hawthorne. From the temp agency? You were supposed to get a call saying that today was my first day of work…?"

Haymitch appears to be blind-sighted by this information.

"Well, shoot! No one called me! I think I would remember if a temp agency called and told me that the office was getting a new lumberjack. I mean, look how tall you are! Peeta, look at how tall this guy is! Lumberjack Boy over here, that's what we'll call you. Either that or the temp...there's no way you're actually a temp."

Peeta, who is about a head shorter than the temp, sighs.

Meanwhile, Gale begins to look flustered. Or just downright pissed off. His nostrils flare and color rises in his cheeks.

"Someone was supposed to call…"

"And yet they didn't! Katniss, Katniss, get in here!" Haymitch shouts through the open doorway.

A young woman, dressed conservatively in a pair of simple brown corduroys and a black sweater, comes rushing into the room, her long braid following close behind and almost whacking Peeta in the face.

"Yes?"

"Did I get any phone calls from a temporary employee agency, Sweetheart?"

Katniss nods swiftly, her calculative grey eyes training themselves on the cameras as she responds that the agency called yesterday and that she put the call through to him. She then further explains by saying that he tried doing his Daddy Warbucks impression from Annie to the woman who called him when Haymitch's blank expression does not register.

Katniss sighs. She very clearly did not want to resort to whatever she is about to say, not with Gale standing right beside her.

"You told them that Gale is a girls' name, remember?"

Suddenly, Haymitch remembers Gale Hawthorne.

* * *

Haymitch decides to kill two birds with one stone by introducing both Gale and the documentary crew to everyone else in the office.

"You've already met Katniss, our receptionist," Haymitch begins. "A girl of few words, but she knows how to get the job done right."

While Katniss smiles faintly at the compliment and blushes, Haymitch leans in toward Gale and eyes the camera.

"Also, easily the hottest in the office. Hands down. You think she's cute now, you should have seen her when she first came to us. So bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as she begged me for a job. _My family will go hungry, please_! Girl was so skinny, I could see the ribs under that rack of hers."

"Excuse me?" Katniss exclaims, turning an even deeper shade of crimson. Haymitch tells her to take the compliment. He adds that the girl behind the desk can also be very hot-headed, in addition to being simply 'hot'.

Haymitch then tells the camera crew and Gale to keep their paws off, because Katniss is engaged to one of the warehouse workers, Darius Lavins, 'Super Ginger'. This earns an embarrassed eye roll from Katniss and a barely-concealed smirk from Peeta.

* * *

 _When asked about her engagement, Katniss blushes and says:_

" _Darius and I have known each other since high school. I grew up on the poorer side of town, and he drove me home from a New Year's party my senior year. Then he kept bothering me on my walks home until I finally kissed him…"_

 _When asked how long she's been engaged, Katniss appears to be a bit more stand-offish, shrinking into her seat and averting her eyes._

" _Three years," she says, a hint of sadness in her soft-spoken voice. "We were supposed to get married in November, but I think Darius wants a springtime wedding now. So, we'll see. I like springtime. It's...nice."_

* * *

"Well, you've met Peeta, and…WOAH, watch out for this brute! A ruthless selling machine, this guy!" Haymitch growls playfully, sneaking up and grabbing the broad shoulders of Peeta's desk-clump mate, a hulking blonde with a cocky grin. Using a handkerchief, the man is cleaning off a steak knife at his desk.

"This is Cato Hadley," Haymitch says. "Cato, meet the new temp, Gale Hawthorne."

Gale holds out his hand to Cato to be shaken, and Cato merely glowers at the gesture. Cato stares at Gale's hand as if he has never been introduced to someone before. From behind him, Haymitch knees the back of Cato's chair.

"Be polite, you jackass."

Cato finally takes Gale's hand. He had been testing the waters before. Haymitch trusting Gale earns Cato's trust as well.

"Mhm, strong handshake. I guess you could measure up here someday."

"Don't assess his worth. Just tell him your damn name, dummy."

"I'm Cato Hadley, Assistant Regional Manager…"

"Assistant _to_ the Regional Manager," Haymitch corrects. Cato grumbles angrily in response. "Say, Cato, tell Gale here about your masonry, or the car…"

The brute's eyes light up. "Oh, yeah…bought a Mitsubishi Chariot for about twelve hundred. Fixed it up, did all the repairs myself back at my garage at home. Worth three thousand now. I have pictures, if you want to see…"

Cato rolls his chair back and pulls open his desk drawer to retrieve the pictures, but he spies something that causes him to stop short.

"Dammit! _Peeta_!" Cato snarls. He pounds on his desk and makes a movement like he is about to deck the other man. Haymitch steps forward so that he is standing in line of Cato's heated stare.

"Hey, hey, court's in session. Judge Haymitch presides. What's the problem?"

"He baked my stapler into bread _again_ ," Cato complains, slamming a large loaf of freshly-baked sour dough bread onto his desktop. The end of a stapler pokes out of one of the air holes in the middle of the bread.

Katniss breaks out into laughter from her seat at reception. Seated calmly at his desk, Peeta shrugs, but the smirk he wears is very telling.

* * *

" _Yeah, I dabble in the art of baking," Peeta admits to the cameras in a private interview. "I also dabble in the art of pranking Cato Hadley."_

* * *

Cato is seething. "This is the third time, and it wasn't funny the first two times, either. You're making me look weak!"

"He's making you look like you have a sense of humor, Cato, which can't hurt in your case. Likability is helpful, and you have about as much charm as a dead slug," Haymitch drones. "Katniss would know what that's like, right, girl? God bless Super Ginger for having to put up with you. You're lucky you're hot."

Katniss shoots the cameras an annoyed look.

Cato then digs his hand into the bread, getting crumbs just about everywhere. Haymitch juts a hand out and smacks Cato away.

"No, wait, Cato! Do _not_ take it out. You have to eat it out…there are starving people in the world, which is horrible, so you can't let this bread go to waste." Haymitch treats this remark as a joke, which makes many of the people around him visibly annoyed and uncomfortable.

Cato rolls his eyes when he notes that Haymitch is holding back laughter and pulls Gale down by the collar of his shirt to be at his level.

"You'll be my witness, Lumberjack Boy. Haymitch, reprimand him!"

The cameras cut to Peeta, who is buttering a slice of bread.

"How do you even know it was me?" he asks through a mouthful of sour dough, feigning innocence and ignorance.

"Oh, for goodness sake! Discipline him!" Cato whines.

"Discipline…ooh, that's kinky," Haymitch says with a chuckle tossed toward the cameras. When Cato's stony expression remains unchanged and his steak knife has returned to his clenched fist, the manager clears his throat and begins to speak in a much more serious tone.

"Look, practical jokes are like a train. Sometimes, the ride can go on for a while…but Peeta, it's time to hop off the train and stop baking Cato's personal belongings into your delicious bread. That still sounds like a euphemism. Damn, I really tried to not make it sound like a euphemism..."

"Wasn't really a euphemism till you made it one," Lumberjack Boy mumbles under his breath.

Peeta, wiping crumbs from his mouth, sighs as if he has conceded. "Alright. Cato, I'm sorry…it's just that I've always been jealous of you. From your car, to your big grain—I mean, brain."

Haymitch cackles, slaps Cato on the back, and tells Gale, "Isn't this great? This is how we do things around here!"

Gale smirks and points at Peeta.

"You should at yeast arrest him for his crimes," Gale jokes, earning another belly laugh from the boss and a resounding 'NEW GUY, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN'.

Cato simmers and takes a menacing bite out of the loaf of bread that his stapler has been baked into.

* * *

The rest of the introductions go a bit more smoothly.

Gale is introduced to salesmen Cinna Styles and Wiress Hicks.

"Like the Mama and Papa Bear of the sales team, these two. Mainly because they're much older than the rest of us," Haymitch explains.

Looking up from her computer, Wiress states, "Haymitch, I graduated from high school a year after you…"

Haymitch quickly ushers Gale away.

Next, they meet accountants Clove Sevina, Beetee Latier, and Caesar Flickerman. Both Clove and Beetee are too busy to humor Haymitch's jokes about Clove's mousy size or Beetee's glasses, but Caesar seems to have all the time in the world, asking Gale a range of extremely personal questions until Haymitch literally has to shove the man back into his seat.

After the accountants is Quality Assurance Director Greasy Sae. She compliments Gale's bag before saying that she could trade it in for some delicacy squirrel meat at the market that she frequents.

"Squirrel meat?" Gale chokes back what the crew can only assume is bile.

Sae grins, showing off her teeth (or lack there of).

"It doesn't have to be squirrel, Handsome. They've got all types of meats there. You ever try human flesh?"

Gale leads Haymitch away this time.

Abrasive and quick to make a sexual pun about the nickname "Lumberjack Boy", Supplier Relations Representative Johanna Mason gets a silent earful from Haymitch before he takes Gale back to the annex where he will be working. Her fellow Supplier Relations Rep, Orin Cray, chuckles and high-fives the scandalous brunette.

At the annex, Effie tries to welcome Gale and the crew again, but she gets quickly shut down by Haymitch.

"HR Rep. The office killjoy. The star of every single one of my nightmares. That's all you need to know about Effie Trinket."

A youthful, fast-talking blonde girl in a headset chatters away in the corner. Once she lays eyes on Gale, she hangs up mid-sentence on the person she is speaking to. She introduces herself as Madge Undersee, head of Customer Service.

Gale eyes her as she ogles at him. Finally, he throws her a bone and compliments her.

"Uh, nice dress."

As Madge keeps talking about celebrities Gale Hawthorne reminds her of—the most exciting one to her being Thor—Haymitch slips away.

* * *

"Haymitch? This fax just came in from Corporate. It says 'URGENT' at the top," Katniss informs her manager, who is aiming magnetic darts at a board that he has placed on the back of his door. A picture of Effie Trinket's face has been taped over the bullseye. One of the darts smacks Katniss in the cheek before plopping to the ground.

"Corporate, huh? Let me see," Haymitch drawls. As soon as Katniss transfers the paper over to him, Haymitch crumples it up and tosses it into the trashcan beside his desk. Both boss and receptionist look pleasantly surprised when the paper actually makes it into the can.

"That's the special filing cabinet from things from Corporate. You know that, Kitty Kat," he announces. Katniss shoots the cameras a worried glance before returning to her desk at reception.

* * *

" _I'm not here to be the dictator, you know?" Haymitch candidly explains in a private interview. "I've been here for almost twenty-five years, and I've been on the other side of things before becoming manager six years ago. This place shouldn't feel like it's ruled by some totalitarian government. I try to make my office fun. This company has the entire floor, so as manager, I guess you could call this floor my playing ground. Instead of tasks, or jobs, I like to think of what we do here as a fun game. It's just easier to get through the day that way. Do we play hard when we should be working hard? Sometimes. But I'd rather my employees think of me as a coach than as a boss."_

 _He leans across the desk, angling a mug that reads 'Best Mentor' toward the camera._

" _Got this as a gift for myself," he states proudly "You can literally print anything on a mug on that Etsy website. Did you know that?"_

 _He then proceeds to pour himself some clear liquid from an unmarked bottle into a shot glass, empties it into the mug under his desk, and downs the entire contents in one gulp._

 _"Part of being the Best Mentor out there requires me to be loose. Can't do that if I'm sober, can I? Nothing wrong with a little buzz to get the job done. It's how bees do it, don't they? I'm just a queen bee, tryin' to get buzzed with my worker bees. That isn't coming out right..."_

* * *

After lunch break, a woman dressed almost entirely head to toe in gray strides into the office. Upon noticing her, everyone makes an effort to look extra busy at their desks.

"Alma Coin, Vice President of Eastern Sales. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Haymitch declares as the cameras follow her into his office.

The woman straightens her suit jacket out and offers a sympathy chuckle to what she thinks is a joke. She asks Haymitch if he has anything he would like to add to the agenda.

"Agenda?" Haymitch stammers.

A pointed gray eyebrow rises. "The agenda I sent you this morning. From Corporate. It had 'URGENT' written on it in big, bold, red letters. Any of that ring a bell?"

"Eh?" Haymitch says with a shrug.

Alma Coin taps the toe of her pointed heel impatiently on the floor. "So, you really didn't get my fax?"

Haymitch makes a half-hearted effort of looking through the scraps on his desk before asking Katniss if he got a fax from corporate this morning.

The receptionist, who has reluctantly joined the conversation, swallows hard and nods.

"Uh, yeah. You put it in the trash—I mean, the 'Special Filing Cabinet' where things from Corporate go, remember?"

The Vice President tries to hide her visible irritation as she watches Haymitch fish the crumpled piece of paper from the waste basket.

"Well, would you look at that? 'URGENT'. Big, bold, and red…just like you said. Must not have been bold enough, because I missed it completely…"

"Look, Haymitch. I don't have time to beat around the bush with you, so I'm just going to come out and let you know that the board has determined that we can't justify having branches in both Twelve and Four. I've already talked to Seneca in Four…and there may be some downsizing that's going to have to happen in the near future."

"What? Downsizing?"

"Yes. The economy is doing poorly, and our company can't support twelve fully-staffed branches. Nobody wants to buy coal-powered electric plans anymore. How this company has even survived for seventy-four years is beyond me…"

"Alma, you're telling me that _my_ staff has to suffer because the _economy_ is suffering?"

"Downsizing is just easier than shutting down an entire branch. We were planning on making this a covert operation, so don't look so offended, Haymitch. You're lucky we are even giving you a say in the matter," the woman responds with a heavy sigh. She speaks to Haymitch as if he were a petulant child.

"I am, though. I am offended. Downsizing is brutal! You can't just come into my arena and make my team a bunch of benchwarmers!"

"I'm going to pretend that your analogy made any semblance of sense…"

Before Coin can continue, Haymitch's phone starts ringing.

"This better be Corporate calling to apologize now, or Ashton Kutcher from Punk'd…downsizing, my ass," Haymitch grumbles. Staring right at Coin, he puts his phone on speaker.

"Haymitch Abernathy."

"Waaaaassssuuuup, HayBITCH?!"

"Chaff-ed Underwear, sexiest travelling salesman in the business! Waaaassup?"

"Glad to hear you're still alive," the obnoxious, grating voice on the phone trills throughout Haymitch's office. Katniss plugs up one ear with her free hand while jamming her pen into the other. "Corporate's going around and making cuts. It's only a matter of time before that Silver Snake _Coin_ shows up and rips you a new a-hole! Say, I wonder if the gray carpet matches the gray drapes! Maybe you can find out for me…"

As Chaff cackles, Haymitch hangs up the phone. It becomes a contest of who in the room feels most embarrassed by what has just transpired. Haymitch coughs. Katniss bounces on the heels of her feet. Coin pinches the bridge of her nose, shuts her eyes, and takes a calming breath.

"Just keep this on the down low, alright? I don't want to worry people unnecessarily if we end up figuring things out."

"Yes, Ma'am."

As soon as Alma's gray Sudan pulls out of the parking lot, Haymitch sends Katniss on an alcohol run and shouts from his open door that he will fight for her safety in the downsizing, effectively telling the entire office what was supposed to be a secret.

* * *

Word spreads like wildfire throughout the office about the downsizing rumors after their boss' little outburst.

"Who do you think is going to go?" Wiress asks the huddle that has formed at the water cooler. The Styrofoam cup that she fills overflows, but Wiress does not notice. She is too distracted. Her large, wide eyes skitter all over nervously. "Oh, it's only a matter of time before the cuts start. I just want to know."

Pushing his glasses back up the rim of his nose, Beetee offers an explanation, stating that, "This is how I see it: They could go either one of two ways. One, those who have poorest performance records for the culmination of their work in each branch will be reviewed and ultimately terminated without severance. Or two, they will let either the youngest or oldest in each branch go, maybe even both, thus eliminating the people with the least potential left in the company. I've already drafted several Excel spreadsheets with the possible permutations of who could stay and who is potentially on the chopping block."

Cinna, leaning against the water cooler, puts on his sunglasses and dozes off in the middle of Beetee's in-depth response. He is clearly too cool to be concerned with any of this.

* * *

From his desk at accounting, Caesar looks once, twice over his shoulder. Most likely for any other onlookers. He doesn't see the cameras.

Leaning in closely to the glass divider that separates their desks, he whispers, "Clover, darling."

"Caesar, I am your co-worker. Not your darling. And it's _Clove_ , not _Clover_." The dark-haired, small woman does not even bother looking up from her work.

"My apologies," the man answers, tanned skin wrinkling into a deep frown. It is apparent that he does not frown often. "I'm just worried about the downsizing. Tell me, aren't you at all worried that your job is at stake?"

He grits his teeth and makes a very showy look of nervousness to portray to the cameras, which he has now noticed have been filming him.

"I'm so nervous!" he screeches. "What if it's me?"

Clove winces as the new octave of Caesar's voice takes her by surprise, and a pen mark slashes through all of her hard work.

* * *

" _No, I'm not worried about downsizing," Clove tells the cameras confidently. "My work here has been above average, and I have my numbers from last quarter alone to show for it. I'm small, but my skills are mighty."_

 _Through the blinds of the window in the conference room where the private interviews are held, Clove cranes her petite neck to watch Caesar apply a teeth whitening strip to his upper lip, read the instructions on the box of strips, and reapply the strip to his teeth._

" _Besides," she adds with a tight-lipped smile, "the office can afford to lose a few of the…variety show acts…we have around here."_

* * *

" _If they let me go, it wouldn't be the worst thing," Katniss admits with a shrug when she is asked to comment on the possibility of downsizing in the office. "Then maybe I could…I don't know. It's not many little girls' dream to grow up and become a receptionist. When I took this job, I just really needed the money. My dad had been killed in a car accident, my mom was having a hard time coping, and someone needed to put food on the table for my sister. This was never what I wanted to do. This is just a job."_

 _When she is asked what she really wants to do, she quickly responds, "I want to be a musician. Compose scores and, I dunno, maybe jingles…stuff like that. I've made up a few little pieces here and there. Peeta thinks they're good."_

* * *

"Are you nervous about the downsizing?" Katniss asks, a smile toying on her lips as she leans in toward where Peeta stands at the other side of her reception desk.

The blonde grins. He pops a peanut M&M, the candy of the month that Katniss has chosen for her visitors and placed in a jar on the ledge of her desk, into his mouth.

"What I'm _more_ concerned about," he says as he chews, reaching into his pocket, "is how I'm going to RSVP to _this_ tantalizing invitation to Clove's lizard party."

He pulls out a folded card and dangles it in front of Katniss. Katniss' hands fly to her mouth to keep from laughing. She ends up snorting instead.

"I got that too! Who throws a birthday party for a lizard? Buttercup's lucky if I remember to feed him, that fat yellow furball," she whispers through her gigantic smile, careful not to attract the attention of Clove, who stands by the copier and is already eyeing her warily.

Peeta shrugs playfully. "Well, are you gonna go?"

"Ooh, you see, as enticing as it sounds…I have an important date with my sock drawer Sunday night. It needs to be rearranged. Are you?"

Peeta guffaws. "Hell no. Not if you're not going. Gosh, I sure hope the iguana can forgive me."

"Peeta, read the invitation. Izzy is a _gecko_. That's why the Geico Gecko is saying, 'You're invited!' here on the card...wow, you're such a bad guest."

"I'm not a guest because I refuse to step into the Reptile House at the Clove Sevina Zoo."

The two erupt into a fit of giggles, and they're only silenced when Clove slams the lid of the copier and storms back to her desk.

* * *

Peeta's annoyance is thinly veiled when his entire desk is pushed back into his chest while he finishes up with a phone call, effectively sending the air whooshing out of him before he can get his client's confirmation.

"Cato, what are you doing?" Peeta asks as he cups his hand over the phone receiver.

"Making more room at my desk to stretch my legs," Cato replies, not looking up from his work.

"You realize that you're messing with _my_ desk, right?"

"Can't help that your desk is in the way of my hard earned space, Nimrod."

Peeta returns to his sale. He hangs up the phone with surprising force. When it does not catch Cato's attention, Peeta stares intensely at his computer screen, grinding his teeth in frustration. Cato snorts in satisfaction and reclines in his seat. A few moments later, Peeta reaches out and tips a mug filled with pencils over the edge of the desk and into the space that Cato's rearranging created.

Cato scoffs as Peeta crawls under his desk to clean up the mess he made.

"Idiot," Cato sneers.

The cameras pan down to where Peeta crouches and Cato's legs have been outstretched. Working quickly and quietly, Peeta can be seen tying Cato's shoelaces together.

Naturally, this presents a problem for Cato just ten minutes later, when he decides to go to the bathroom and ends up falling flat on his face instead.

The entire office is in stitches.

"Dammit, Peeta!" Cato growls as he flounders to get back onto his feet. Due to his six foot, two inch height, it also becomes problematic when the man tries to reach down and untangle his laces. "This stunt has safety violation written all over it. You could have sliced my leg open with all of the stray pencils that are still lying around. I could have gotten blood poisoning from your lead!"

Peeta stands over his co-worker and shrugs. "And here I was, worried that I was going to lose you to downsizing. No, blood poisoning is far more plausible."

Cato writhes some more while Peeta rearranges the desks.

* * *

" _I'm_ not _afraid of downsizing," Cato insists when asked the downsizing question, face still sporting fresh rug burn. "It is not in Hadley blood to be afraid of anything. It is in our blood, however, to be the best at what we do. I'm the best salesman in District Twelve. They won't fire me. Besides, I've been suggesting that we downsize since I got hired. Frankly, I'm annoyed that they're just_ _getting around to it now_. _"_

* * *

" _What would I do if I were let go?" Peeta reiterates the question, pausing to give the response serious thought for a moment before he continues. "Well, I guess the real question is: what would I do with all of this pointless information I've acquired over the years? How long it takes a lump of coal to burn? How many days it takes Cato to realize I've been slowly moving everything on his desk one centimeter every morning? Katniss' favorite color? Green, by the way. I don't know, really. Hopefully I'd be able to figure something out."_

* * *

" _He said green?" It's all Katniss seems to get out of the question and the sharing of that part of Peeta's response. "Ha, yeah, he's onto me. His is orange, if you're curious. Not orange like the color of Effie's new hair…it's more muted. Like the sunset."_

 _She smiles, as if the color has surrounded her._

* * *

"Watch any reality TV, Mister Hawkeye?"

"Hawthorne."

"Whatever, Lumberjack Boy. You watch any?"

"I occasionally keep up with the Real Housewives, sure," Gale offers, adjusting himself in one of the chairs that are in Haymitch's office. When he receives a plethora of judgmental looks from Haymitch and the crew, he adds, "They're hot, okay?

"Are you into, like, the pranking ones? Like _The Voice?_ That sort of thing?"

" _The Voice_ isn't a pranking show…"

"Just, shut up. Just watch and be entertained. You're my accomplice on this. Don't steal my thunder either, Pretty Boy. Come in, Sweetheart!"

Katniss comes through the door, uncapped ballpoint pen gripped in her teeth. It is clear that she is very busy.

"You got a fax," she says quickly, ignoring Haymitch's leading commentary about 'rumors at Corporate' entirely.

"Thank you. Oh, and Katniss? Katniss, could you come here for a second? As you know, there's been talk of downsizing…and you have made my life so much easier…in that I am going to let you help me figure out how we should let you go."

Katniss' face falls.

"What? Me? Why?"

"Well—treason."

"Treason?"

"Yeah, you see, Corporate is furious that you show them up with that attitude of yours. It's the way you answer the phone, or write your e-mails...there's this _tone_ that you've got, Sweetheart, and they don't like it up in the big leagues. The one thing they hate is being laughed at, and they're the joke of Panem. So we've gotta, you know," he makes a snipping motion with his fingers, "nip it in the butt."

"Are you serious?" the girl asks, her concerned eyes narrowing slightly.

Haymitch nods, pretending to look forlorn. Gale just sits like a statue, petrified in fear of what's to come.

Katniss appears to be on the verge of tears, blinking ferociously and shaking her head.

"I—I can't believe this. I mean…I've always acted pleasantly at work."

Haymitch scratches his scraggly beard and winks quickly at Gale before moving on. The younger man just buries his face in his large hands.

"Well, you must not be that good of an actress. And the best part is that we won't have to pay you any severance, because that's gross misconduct. So, I'm sorry. I know I made promises to about saving you in the downsizing, but there's nothing we can do."

He is met only with silence. When the cameras slowly pan to Haymitch's left, Katniss can be seen weeping softly, trying miserably to hide her pain with hands by covering her face. Haymitch's smug grin slowly falls flat.

"I'm sorry," he offers lamely. Gale shoots him a look of disbelief that he's still choosing to let the joke go on rather than coming clean.

Suddenly, the receptionist is on her feet and leaping at her boss.

"You son of a bitch! You promised you'd keep us all safe! You promised! You're a liar!" she shrieks, lunging forward with her pen and narrowly missing Haymitch's face, as he dodges the blows in the nick of time.

The older man grasps her wrist. When she tries to resist him, Haymitch counteracts by flicking the pen out of her hands.

"So it's you and a pen against Corporate, huh? This is why I'm the manager and you're not calling the shots around here, Sweetheart," Haymitch comments acerbically. Katniss, upon realizing how she has just behaved, turns beet red.

Haymitch rolls his eyes. He roughly jerks Katniss' wrist out of his grasp and starts humming Alicia Key's 'Girl on Fire'.

"Relax, I'm not going to report you for almost drawing on my face. And you're not fired, by the way."

"W-what?"

"You're not getting fired. Surprise! It's a joke!" Haymitch proclaims, trying to bring light back to the situation. He jabs a thumb toward Gale and claims that he was in on the joke as well. Gale tries to refute this, but he's met with a glare from his new boss.

"You see, Sweetheart, this was a morale booster. We're still alive! We're still in the game!"

As Haymitch goes on, Katniss seems to be caught between shock and confusion. Anger burning in her gray eyes, she cuts Haymitch off abruptly.

"You're a jerk," she spits, wiping a stray tear from her eyes before storming out of the room.

Acting unfazed, a very uncomfortable Haymitch goes back to humming his tune while a horrified Gale Hawthorne mouths 'What the hell?' to the cameras.

"That, my friends," Haymitch says after some time has passed, "is how a joke dies."

* * *

" _Jerk? Well, would a_ jerk _go against Corporate's wishes and give his employees the heads up about the downsizing?"_

 _Haymitch smirks, smitten with himself for the idea. He is about a third of the way through his second bottle of unmarked liquor, and the scent on his breath reeks of alcohol._

" _I think not."_

* * *

Haymitch is burping into his sleeve and hanging onto Cato's shoulder as the members of the office all shuffle into the conference room. He is very, very, very intoxicated.

Katniss chooses an empty seat beside Peeta, notebook at hand to take down 'notes' for Haymitch (the cameras reveal that previous pages of these 'notes' are just doodles and scribbles). As soon as he is seated, Cinna takes out a fashion magazine and makes minimal effort to hide his disinterest in being in the room.

Cato remains standing, stoic and stolid in his duties as Assistant to the Regional Manager, which in this moment translates to personal leaning post. Carefully, Cato leads Haymitch onto a makeshift stage, assembled out of crates of coal from the warehouse.

"Alright, alright, alright," Haymitch starts, drawling out the words in a thick, Southern accent. "Matthew McCounaghey, anyone?"

The room is eerily silent. Everyone knows what the meeting is about. Haymitch tries to clear his throat, but another burp comes out instead.

"So, this news may come as a shock to you all, and they want me to keep it on the down low at Corporate, but I don't care 'bout what Corporate wants, 'cause 's _you_ all who matter…"

"Just tell us what's going on with the downsizing, you old drunk!" Johanna Mason cries out, much to HR representative Effie's chagrin.

Haymitch blinks. "Oh, so y'all know already?"

The room erupts in chaos at the confirmation of all the day's rumors spewing from their manager's drunken mouth.

"So, it's true then?" Wiress asks, voice wavering.

"Unfortunately, I'm 'fraid so," Haymitch slurs sympathetically.

"What are we going to do?" Beetee asks, exasperated.

Haymitch takes another swig from his flask and shrugs.

"There's not much we can do, other than face the imminent probability of your job's termination. And know that there's absolutely nothing I can do to help you."

Madge starts going on about how all of her sorority sisters are going to make fun of her on Facebook for being 'their unemployed friend'. Caesar Flickerman laughs until he's crying. Effie tries to calm people down, her painted-on smile faltering. Clove opens the window and hangs halfway out of it for some air. Wiress starts reciting some sort of rhyme, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Peeta sends another helpless look the camera's way.

Someone lobs a lump of coal at Haymitch's head, and it narrowly misses him. This causes Cato to spring into action and find the perpetrator, leaving Haymitch alone on the stage.

Standing before the mayhem, Haymitch stares blankly at his distressed workers and begins to sway. Something flies toward his head again, slamming against the wall. This seems to break him from his haze. Haymitch blinks rapidly and rubs his wide eyes.

The office is in shambles, as if a riot has stormed through the conference room.

"Oh, no. This is bad," Haymitch mutters under his breath. Turning his attention back to the members of the office, he starts shouting and waving his arms in an attempt to get everyone to calm down. It is to no avail.

Panic and anger creep into his features when he notices how his workers start taking their frustrations out on each other. Cato has Johanna in a headlock. Sae has Caesar cornered, salad fork dangerously close to his eyes. Cinna reads his magazine and makes no effort to help anyone.

A scream punctures through Haymitch's drunken thoughts once more, and he decides to take action.

He forgets, however, that he is standing on a pile of boxes.

Everyone shuts up when their boss somersaults off of the stage and falls to the floor in a heap of limbs.

* * *

Sporting a fairly large lump on his throbbing head, Haymitch dials the number of company President while Cato holds a brown, frozen banana to Haymitch's wound. Everyone in the office crams into the doorway of Haymitch's office, and those who cannot fit peer through the window. He has ceded, per request of the Panem employees, to agree to call the CEO of the company in order to settle this once and for all.

"Mister Abernathy," a powerful voice, low and rumbling, picks up. Everyone collectively holds their breath.

"Coriolanus! Haymitch here!"

"Yes, Mister Abernathy. The caller ID told me that you were calling. Therefore, the second introduction is not necessary…"

"Oh, alright. Well, it's come to my attention that there's been talk of downsizing, and a few of my employees have caught wind of some rumors…"

There is a loud sigh on the other end of the phone. The speaker crackles and President Coriolanus Snow can be heard clearing his throat.

"Haymitch, exactly how many of your employees have caught wind of this _private_ information?"

"Oh, you know…just a few."

"We've agreed not to lie to each other, Haymitch."

"I may or may have told them all in a meeting that felt pertinent at the time," Haymitch finally admits. Several of the employees let go of the breath that they had been holding.

"They're all with you right now, aren't they?"

"Pssh, no…"

"Do not lie!" the ominous voice snaps. Haymitch jumps and swallows hard.

"Yes, we're all here, President Snow."

"Very well. Since you've told me the truth, I owe you the same. Yes, the company is experiencing economic difficulty. Yes, there needs to be downsizing. But it is very minor. It was supposed to be each managers' job to quietly let one person go by the end of the month. That was the extent of the downsizing."

"So, we're keeping our jobs?"

"More or less, yes."

The remainder of the conversation is drowned out by the sounds of whoops and cheers throughout the District Twelve office. The clock strikes five, closing time, and the cheers grow even louder.

Laughing gaily as he surveys the scene, Haymitch accidentally hangs up on his boss.

Everyone, it seems, is just happy to hold onto their jobs for one more day.

* * *

" _Ha, no. I don't have a girlfriend, to answer your question," Peeta says modestly, a touch of boyish shyness dashing across his face in the form of a bright pink blush. His blue eyes soften._

" _There is this one girl that I've had a crush on forever, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't think of me in that way."_

 _When asked why a handsome young man like him doesn't go after the girl and win her over by one of the crew members, Peeta smiles sadly and shrugs. Once again, he offers the same helpless look he's been giving the camera all day._

" _Because," he says, "she works five feet away from me."_

* * *

"What a day," Peeta sighs as he slips an arm through his jacket sleeve. From her seat at reception, Katniss exhales heavily and laughs.

"Yeah, definitely."

"Well, a bunch of us are going out to the Hob tonight for an end-of-the-week slash yay-we're not-fired-yet drink. You should join us, Everdeen. The party could use some of your spark."

She eagerly leans in, but before she can answer to Peeta's request, a gangly red-headed man in a white warehouse uniform marches into the room. The uniform and the man's pale face are both smeared with dark splotches of coal dust. He glides past Peeta and firmly plants a kiss on Katniss' lips. Peeta pulls back from where he leans by the candy jar and averts his eyes at the public display of affection.

"Let's get out of here," the man, presumably Darius, tells Katniss.

Fiddling with the end of her braid, Katniss glances toward Peeta before asking Darius if she can go out with people from work for a drink.

Eyeing Peeta, Darius shakes his head. The toothpick that he has jammed into his teeth and begun to chew on hangs loosely from his bottom lip.

"Nah, Babe. We should go home. Let's go home."

Katniss bows her head slightly, hiding her disappointment.

"O-okay. Let me just finish up with some faxes…"

"Hey, you should come too, Darius! You like the Hob, right?" Peeta quips. His emits a nervous laugh that seems unlike any of the cool collected nature that he had been displaying all day. "Call up some of the guys from the warehouse. It's been so long since we've hung out with an upstairs and downstairs crowd."

The red-head chortles and shakes his head.

"Yeah, no. It sounds _great_ , Mellark. But we've seriously gotta get going."

Katniss tells Peeta to have a good weekend before her fiancé ushers her through the door.

* * *

 _The crew asks Katniss to tell a story about a time when a co-worker did something for her._

" _There was this one time, a few years ago, actually, when my family and I were really struggling. My sister, Prim, had gotten into the nursing school at the University of Pittsburgh, and I just really wanted to take her out to this fancy restaurant. It was the place where my dad proposed to my mom, and where we had my graduation dinner…Anyway, it was too expensive, and I was freaking out for weeks about earning the extra cash. It was the night of Prim's high school graduation, and I found an envelope addressed to the 'Everdeen girls' on my desk."_

 _Cressida, enraptured by the story, is the one to ask what was in the envelope._

" _It was from Peeta. It was a huge chunk of his paycheck for that week; there was even enough to get dessert. I didn't want to take it—I mean, how could I accept something like that? But he insisted—via note, of course, because he knew that if he stuck around to watch me get the gift I would have chased him down and forced him to take it back. It was worth it. Prim looked so happy the whole night. He really went above and beyond for us. He even went so far as to call the restaurant and get us personalized menus at our family's favorite table. There was a vase of primroses at the center of the table, too."_

 _She pauses, as if she is recreating the scene in her head. Katniss reaches out and grabs something that isn't really there, holding the imaginary item to her chest._

 _"And the funniest thing…a dandelion. Just sticking out from the bunch of flowers, like the florist had missed it or something. It was bright yellow, and it stuck out like a sore thumb, but I didn't mind it. This may sound corny, but this dandelion, this little weed, gave me hope. I'll never forget that day…I started working full time here after that night."_

* * *

" _You know, our company's motto is: 'Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever'. My proudest moments here don't come from percentage increases or expenses cuts. No, a company is truly defined by the people," Haymitch tells the cameras as he packs his bags for the day._

" _The Cato Hadleys, the Katniss Everdeens, and even the Caesar Flickermans are what keep this place going. That's what this is really about. The motto should be: People today, people tomorrow, people forever."_

* * *

Before heading out for the evening, the cameras watch as Peeta, the last person remaining, creeps into Haymitch's office. Moving quickly, he grabs the manager's 'Best Mentor' mug and starts to put it in his bag.

Peeta sees that the cameras are watching and freezes.

"I'm going to bake this into a giant muffin for Monday," he explains before stuffing the mug into his briefcase and locking up the office.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading :)**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	2. Year One: The Scores

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything. Both _The Hunger Games_ and _The Office (US)_ belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year One, Episode Two: The Scores**

When a mystery package is delivered to the office, everyone begins to speculate what it could be.

A crowd of curious workers forms around the reception desk within minutes of the UPS delivery worker dropping it off.

"Maybe it's finally the toner that _Katniss_ supposedly ordered weeks ago for the printer," Clove conjectures, shooting the girl at reception a pointed look that seems to scorn her for all things wrong with the world.

"Maybe it's some sort of sex toy," Johanna offers. The corners of her lips curve upward into a sly grin when everyone openly retorts the grotesque suggestion. "Come on, we were all thinking it!"

"Maybe Madge used the company card to go online shopping…again," Wiress suggests, voice as soft as a chirping, gossipy baby bird. She keeps her eyes averted when the offended young blonde makes a sound of utter disgust and looks among the crowd for her accuser.

"It's addressed to Haymitch, guys," Katniss rebukes.

"So then it's definitely a sex toy," Johanna calls out. When met again with sounds of protest, she urges, "I'm serious! He's old and drunk and lonely…old lonely drunks need, like, inflatable dolls and shit to keep themselves going…"

Whistling poorly to himself as he comes back from the bathroom, Cato notices the lack of productivity and the huddle at reception. Beady eyes honing in on his targets, he b-lines to the crowd and elbows past everyone to get to the mystery package.

" _This_ is what has caused you all be distracted from your work? Simpletons. It's just a package."

"But we don't know what's in it!" Caesar explains. "Oh, the suspense is just KILLING ME!"

He shouts this last part into Greasy Sae's ear. Not even sure why she is standing in this huddle, Sae's reaction results in her screaming back at Caesar. It is a grating, guttural noise that causes several members of the huddle to step away and leaves Flickerman reeling.

"Can't we just open it?" Gale asks, his interest diminishing by the second. It may not have even been there to begin with, since the man has been glued to his phone the whole time.

The camera watches over Gale's shoulder as he captures a picture of the package on Snapchat and captions it with "Did my boss order a sex toy? #savethetemp".

Madge shakes her head. "No, it's addressed to Haymitch. That's against the law…omigod, Gale. You're such a rebel."

Cato rolls his eyes. "Looks like we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way. Step aside, let a master do the work."

The over-confident salesman takes the package from the desk and begins to perform a series of what he deems 'tests' to figure out the contents of the mystery delivery.

For shape, he places the package on the ground, removes his shoe, and feels around the perimeter of what is in the package with his toe.

"Square," Cato announces. Given the shape of the parcel, this is a very obvious fact.

He performs the same routine with his other foot for size.

"Length and width appear to be about the size of ream of paper, maybe smaller."

"So…it's paper, then," Peeta concludes after Cato's most recent development only leads to more seemingly pointless probing. Cato scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"I think Haymitch mentioned something to me about ordering stationary, like, a week ago or something," Katniss chimes in.

Peeta claps his hands together and bends over to pick up Cato's shoe. "There we go! Mystery solved! Cato, you can put your shoe on again."

"False," Cato retorts, kicking his shoe out of Peeta's hand with his socked foot. "If it were that easy, _Caesar_ would have had it figured out by now."

Caesar grins at the camera, not realizing that he has just been insulted. He seems almost trained to smile at the mentioning of his name, regardless of what is being said about him.

Cato does some more finagling with the package, but never once does he touch it or place any pressure on it. Peeta coughs and mutters, "It's paper" loudly as Cato continues with his tests.

"Just…just let me do my job, okay, Mellark?" Cato growls.

"Oh, you mean your job as a salesman? Be my guest. Isn't that what you were just scolding us about, anyway? Not doing our jobs?" Peeta jabs, gesturing toward the vacant office behind them.

Cato's cheeks flush with embarrassment that his original annoyance at people not doing their jobs now includes him. Therefore, he concludes, he must be annoying himself.

"No, I mean my job at figuring out what this package is!"

"But you said it's 'just a package'…"

"I know what I said, Mellark!" Cato snaps. "Look, you're wasting everyone's time. You're going to be so sorry if this thing is a bomb."

Suddenly, his eyes grow to be very large and wide. He freezes. Everyone watches with bated breath.

Without a single word, he rushes to his desk and pulls out a full-fledged, authentic Medieval sword from beneath his desktop. He's like a deranged, poorly-dressed, modern-day King Arthur, pulling his Excalibur from a stone that no one else in town knew was there.

Several people scream at the sight of the weapon. Johanna cackles. Peeta gives the camera a look that seems to say he wishes he were surprised that Cato keeps a sword under his desk.

Cato takes the sword and jabs a hole through the packaging, careful not to stab the object in question. With the package dangling from the end of the weapon, he rushes off toward the conference room. Everyone follows Cato.

"Is that anyone's pink Volkswagen down there?" Cato shouts over the hysteric mob of employees behind him. The sword is half out the window, and the package hovers over a gaudy, highly-decorated car.

"It's mine!" Effie shrieks.

Cato stares out the window manically. "I hope you have good car insurance, because that baby's about to blow."

Everyone begins to panic. Gale takes another Snapchat and captions it, "Co-Worker's a literal barbarian #savethetemp".

* * *

" _What's with the Snapchats? Well, m_ _y hope is that the hashtag becomes popular enough to become a viral thing, and that maybe another employer will stumble across my social media cry for help and actually get me out of here," Gale tells the cameras in a private interview. He pumps his fist into the air and solemnly closes his eyes._

" _Save the temp," he whispers wistfully._

* * *

"What do you mean the package is going to blow up? Blow up as in _explode_?" Madge chokes.

"Cato, what exactly do you think is in there?" Peeta exclaims.

Cato shrugs and very nonchalantly replies, "It's very obviously a landmine. An M14 Blast Mine, most likely. Maybe non-personnel Claymore."

As expected, pandemonium erupts in the conference room. People are making such a fuss that the cameras begin to shake.

"A landmine?!" Katniss shouts.

"Cato, please. That's ridiculous," Clove observes with a yawn. She is easily, and eerily, the calmest one in the room. As if Cato's antics have no effect on her.

Cato's eyes grow to be the size of saucers at the accusation.

"No, it isn't. Maybe the jerks in Four sent it to us." He begins to retreat into his own mind as he fleshes out his conspiracy. "Haymitch is the kind of person who would be sent hate mail in the wake of a downsizing, and it's our job to protect him from the crazies of this world."

"Now…when you say 'crazies', Cato, what do you mean?" Peeta asks, exchanging a look with the camera.

"Abnormal behavior. Drastic, dangerous motives. Causing harm to the people and things in the office," Cato replies, wincing as a gust of wind almost sends the package plummeting. Cato reacts quickly, however, letting out a warrior's cry and jerking the sword back into the conference room. He almost hits Wiress, but Cinna steers her out of the way just in time.

Peeta's eyebrows arch.

"So, would a man wielding a sword in the workplace be considered a 'crazy'?" Peeta says, directing most of his example at the camera.

Cato nods violently and guffaws at Peeta's question, which he has obviously deemed dumb.

"Duh!"

Peeta presses his lips together, stunned by both his co-worker's density and zeal.

"Just checking."

"People, this is serious. We cannot allow for potential dangers like this in the office! This thing can blow with the slightest pressure applied to it, so we need to shut it down by detonating it," Cato explains this as if he were going over the emergency protocol for a drill.

"Why is detonating it the answer?" Cinna says.

"Gets rid of evidence quicker," Sae replies immediately. "You can't find finger prints on a safe if that safe has been blown up."

Cinna sends a worried look to the camera as the old lady cackles with delight.

"But why does it have to be on _my_ car?" Effie wonders aloud with a pout.

Beetee, the office's unofficial genius, seems to be the only hope at talking Cato out of blowing up Effie's car. Adjusting his glasses, he steps up to the plate to reason with the manic salesman.

"Cato, I believe that you're jumping to a very dramatic conclusion here. There's no way that what's in the package is a…"

But it is too late. Cato shouts "BOMB'S AWAY" and drops the package directly onto the hood of Effie's pink beetle, where it lands with a blunt, dull _thud_. It then proceeds to bounce off of the hood and skid along the blacktop of the parking lot.

Nothing happens.

Everyone, even the thrill-seeking Johanna who had claimed she was 'all for a landmine being in there', lets out a collective breath of relief when their co-worker's crazy speculation has been proven wrong.

By this point, everyone is very much over the mystery package and the excitement surrounding it. People gradually return to their work and go about their day.

Cato, however, is not convinced.

"I know a landmine when I feel one up, and that thing is a landmine!" the blonde man shouts to the cameras from the window.

Filming from the parking lot, the film crew captures about two hours' worth of Cato throwing an entire bag of apples at where the package lays harmlessly on the blacktop below.

* * *

 _At his desk, Haymitch nervously drums his fingers on whatever he can find in close proximity. It is clear that he is nervous._

" _As you all know, I have to fire someone in the office by the end of the month. And that end of the month is Friday. Which is also today."_

 _He groans and spins in his seat for a while._

" _Guess that explains this special delivery from Corporate, then," he continues, gesturing toward a thin folder on his desk. "Still haven't gotten that stationary I ordered from Etsy a week ago, but the postal service gets_ this _shit to me right away..."_

He _pulls out an index card from the folder in the Corporate package and reads to himself for a moment before addressing the cameras._

" _It's from Alma," he says. He then begins to read the note aloud. "Dear Haymitch—she called me 'Dear'; that's nice. Usually she just puts my name on her notes and starts yammering on—as incentive to help you decide who to terminate by the end of the day, Corporate has provided a list of scores for each of your employees. We have used a set of criteria to evaluate the performances of each employee in their given job description over the past few quarters, and we trust that you will agree that those with the lowest scores should be reconsidered. Among them, fire one. I'm not kidding, you have to do this. Alma."_

 _Haymitch appears to have gone into rigor mortis for a moment, frozen entirely in the exact same position he had been in when he finished reading the letter from Alma Coin._

 _Finally, Cressida breaks the ice when she asks if Haymitch is going to look at the scores._

 _Snapping into action, the man shoots up in his seat and quickly peruses over the paperwork that has been sent to him. His facial expressions seem to indicate varying levels of shock, disappointment, and finally, anger._

 _He slams the papers face down on his desk and shakes his head._

" _No. Nope, I refuse to let Corporate and their numbers tell me who to fire. I've got a better idea…"_

* * *

"Morning, Peeta!" Madge chirps as she skips into the break room. Peeta, pouring himself a cup of hot water from the communal coffee machine, offers Madge a smile.

"Morning, Madge."

They continue to go about their business in silence. Peeta dips a tea bag into the steaming cup. Madge pretends to be busying herself with menial tasks, such as opening and closing the fridge, rearranging bags of chips, and unstacking, then re-stacking coffee filters.

Finally, she huffs. This catches Peeta off guard. Tea pours over the side of the mug, scalding his fingers.

"I'm just going to cut to the chase. You and I have no other real reason to talk, so I may as well just come right out with what I want to say," Madge continues.

Peeta gives a half-glance to the camera as he replies, "We were neighbors growing up, Madge. We went to high school together…Nevermind. Go ahead. What's up?"

"You're good with guys, right?"

Peeta nearly chokes on his tea. "What do you mean?"

Madge snorts. "Not, like, sexually. But you're, like, a _bro_ , right? You're good at being one of the guys?"

Peeta shrugs. Madge takes that as confirmation to go forward.

"Well, I was wondering what you thought of the temp."

"Lumberjack Boy?"

"His name is _Gale_ , Peeta. Have some class. Anyway, what do you think of him? He's cute, right?"

Peeta, quite literally cornered by Madge in the conference room, gives the cameras a strained look of panic. It is clear that he has come to conclusion that there is no escape.

"He's…uhm, tall…"

"Omigod, you're right…he's so cute. We'd look cute together, wouldn't we? Like, Taylor Swift music video cute. Ugh, I have _so_ many butterflies just _thinking_ about it. I _can't even_. Do you think you could set us up, Peeta?"

The moment Peeta begins to look hesitant, Madge begins showering him with pleas and batting her eyelashes like there is no tomorrow.

* * *

" _I am the daughter of one of the District Commissioners," Madge explains when she is asked in a private interview how she got to be so persistent. "My father is running for mayor next year—Undersee 2016!—and he taught me that if you want something, you don't stop until you get it. I've been going off of that when it comes to the things I want since I could talk. That's how I got three Barbie dream houses, and a miniature pony, and my Porsche…and this job, actually."_

* * *

"I'm not giving up until you agree to help me."

"Jeez, Madge…I hardly know the guy…"

"Peeta, pleeeease? Who am I going to ask to help me if you won't? _Beetee?_ Come on, think of everything I've done for you!"

"Like what?"

"Like when I speak to customers about their satisfaction with the products that _you_ sold them so you don't have to do it."

"That's your _job_ , Madge…"

Madge reaches her wit's end. Lips curled into a scowl, she goes about grabbing the end of Peeta's tie and yanking him forward, so that he is inches from her determined face.

"Do it, or else _someone's_ poor customer service reviews will result on getting him moved to the annex. Far, far away from the reception desk," her voice has grown low and menacing.

Peeta gulps, and then he finally nods.

"Yeah, ok. Fine." Peeta agrees, fixing himself up again. "And I don't care about the reception desk…"

Madge cheers and hugs Peeta tightly, thanking him for 'volunteering' to do this for her.

Gale Hawthorne enters the break room. Madge squeaks and pushes Peeta off her. Tea splatters down Peeta's arm, and he hisses in pain.

"Hi, Gale!" Madge greets him. Gale grunts in response, jerking the refrigerator door open and grabbing a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich. He takes one bite of the sandwich before wrapping it back up and putting it back in the fridge.

"Hey…Meg, right?"

Madge chuckles as if Gale has told the funniest joke she's ever heard by messing up her name. Her curls bounce as she shakes her head and corrects him.

"Oh." He stares intensely at the white sweater dress that hugs Madge's curves. "Nice dress."

She giggles. "He says that to me, like, all the time," Madge whispers excitedly to Peeta.

Turning his attention back to the fridge, Gale plucks a few grapes from a large bowl and informs Peeta and Madge that the office needs better snacks through a mouthful of half-chewed fruit.

"So, Gale," Madge pipes up, drawing out the vowel sounds in his name with stars in her eyes. "What do you do for fun when you're not hard at work here?"

"Hunt," he replies.

"For food?" asks Peeta. He receives a glare from Gale and promptly goes back to pretending to mind his own business.

"For sport," Gale answers, breadcrumbs dribbling down his shirt.

"I played volleyball in college. That's a sport. And I go shopping, which is essentially like hunting, but for cute things. Wow, we have so much in common!" Madge cuts in.

Gale snorts. He has gone back to the sandwich. Peeta watches as he pulls the sandwich from the brown bag with Madge's dainty cursive name in plain sight without any remorse. Madge watches as if the eating of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich is some sort of courting ritual.

Peeta then feels a sharp jab to his ribcage and looks down at Madge's pointed glare.

"Uh, you guys should date," Peeta offers lamely. Strawberry jam drips from the corner of Gale's mouth while Madge attempts to lean seductively against the counter.

The large, hulking temp shuts the refrigerator door and gives the blonde girl another very blatant once-over.

"Okay," he says finally before finishing off the sandwich that belongs to his future date.

Madge squeals. In her excitement, she whacks Peeta in the chest multiple times and practically flies out of the room.

* * *

 _When asked to comment on her date with Gale, Madge could only reply with three letters, strewn together to make one long exclamation:_

" _OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG."_

* * *

"Dude, tell me that dies down," Gale says, watching Madge gaily dance about the annex and nearly knock Effie's hairpiece off of her head.

Peeta chuckles. "Madge is a really sweet girl…even if she talks a lot."

"She's hot," Gale cuts in while trying to catch Cheese-Its in his mouth.

Peeta nods slowly and purses his lips in mock thought.

"Yeah, personality's not important. Sure…"

" _Super_ hot," Gale says, as if the added superlative makes Madge's attractiveness increase and Peeta's sarcasm nonexistent.

Gale makes his way over to the counter where Peeta stands with what little remains of his tea and starts fixing a cup of coffee.

"Say, what do you think of…" Gale begins. Peeta rolls his eyes. He's done with playing matchmaker for the day. Gale will have to learn all about Madge on their date.

Peeta looks like he has set himself into auto-pilot, ready with positive feedback for Madge, when Gale catches him offguard.

"…Catnip?"

Now, he has Peeta's full attention.

"What about _Katniss_?" Peeta says, emphasizing her name to correct Gale on his grievous error.

"She's cute, right?" Gale probes. He smirks when he notes the pink shade of Peeta's face and neck.

"I mean, yeah…she—she's engaged though."

"Whatever. Engaged isn't married. That's always been my motto. I've gotten with plenty of the 'engaged' chicks in this business night class I go to…we always go to this real shady bar across town called The Slag Heap. They don't hold a candle to her, though."

Gale brings his coffee cup to his mouth and shakes his head. He looks out into the direction of where Katniss answers the phone at reception, gets annoyed with whomever she talks to on the other end, and hangs up the phone. Gale sighs and raises his mug in her direction, as if to toast her.

"I feel like _that's_ the kind of girl you could take hunting."

* * *

" _Peeta," Katniss tells the cameras in a candid private interview when asked to comment on relationships in the office, other than the one between her and her fiancé, who works in the warehouse. "Peeta is easily my best friend here. I really hope he finds someone who deserves him."_

* * *

" _She said I'm her best friend, huh?" Peeta leans back and lets a smile take over his face. "Well, Katniss is…I mean, you guys can see it, can't you? She's…the greatest. She's funny, and warm, and smart, and caring, and strong…"_

 _His smile suddenly dampens. Both he and the crew know that 'best friends' is far from what he wants to be with her._

" _Her fiancé is a really lucky guy. I hope he knows that."_

* * *

"Attention, District Twelve!" Haymitch bellows from where he plants himself outside of his office. "The time has come to determine one lucky winner!"

"Winner? What winner? Was there a raffle that no one told me about? Oh, DRAT." Caesar implores. Clove rolls her eyes.

"The winner of the Office Games, of course," Haymitch announces. He takes an intentional beat, for effect. The applause he must have imagined that he would get does not happen, and the deafening silence is almost painful to endure.

"The Office Games? Ooh, what's that? It sounds absolutely _tantalizing_ ," Caesar says. His hand then shoots up as he calls dibs on being the announcer.

Haymitch cocks a grin and clasps his hands in front of him. Straightening up, he explains that the Office Games will be a series of competitive tasks that will earn them points and, if Katniss is willing to fish the discarded foil from everyone's lunches this week out of the break room recycling bin, medals.

The room is so silent, that the sound of a pin dropping could have the power to cause the walls to cave in.

"Get excited, gang!" Haymitch cheers, waving his hands around. A half-hearted 'yay' is elicited from some of the employees. Cato gives Haymitch a standing ovation.

"You can do better than that! You have to do better than that, if you wanna win the Games."

"For validation points from you? Hard pass," a very disinterested Cinna answers.

"Well, these games could determine your future!" the boss tries again, glancing into the camera with a look that insinuates that by 'future' he means 'job stability'.

"We've got work to do, Haymitch. Here's a game for you. It's called: The expense reports are due at the end of the day," Cinna, completely straight-faced, says.

From where she sits at reception, Katniss watches Peeta pretend to bang his head into an invisible wall.

* * *

" _Every now and then Peeta claims that he's hit his 'forcefield'," Katniss clarifies. "It usually happens when he gets so bored that he physically can't work anymore. It has the power to knock the life right out of him. Today, I think it's the expense reports that have caused him to strike the forcefield. And it's my job to revive him."_

* * *

"We can't be playing games…not with all the problems the company's been having," Clove's serious voice reasons. General agreement ripples throughout the room.

Haymitch does not take this as a viable answer.

"Do your work now, fine. But at two o'clock, the games will begin," Haymitch declares. With that, he seals the deal that the Games are, in fact, mandatory.

"Now, I'm going to need all hands on deck. Peeta, come up with some good games that won't cost the company anything in damages. Katniss, to the recycling bins! You're on medal duty. Clove, decorate the place…make it look like the Olympics. Johanna and Wiress, you'll help her. Sae, don't touch anything. Beetee, figure out how to get my iPod speakers to work so we can blast the playlist that Madge will make. Lumberjack Boy, stay handsome. You're the unofficial poster boy of the Games. So, just look cute. Take your shirt off or something, I don't know. Effie, try very hard not to be your harpy self this afternoon. Cato, join me in my office. We're in charge of score sheets. Cinna—"

"No."

"Alright! Everyone get to work…and at two o'clock, let the Office Games begin!"

* * *

"How are you holding up? Your heart looked like it stopped when you hit that forcefield," Katniss asks, feigning concern for the blonde man standing at her desk. She fiddles with strings of paper clips, tin foil, and magic markers to construct medals for the Games.

Meanwhile, Peeta scribbles furiously on a piece of paper, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth and brow furrowed in concentration.

At the mentioning of their deal, Peeta grins, his blue eyes flashing through his long eyelashes.

"Well, it's working now, thanks to your wicked reviving skills," he says. Katniss laughs. "This list of games may be the most productive thing I've done all week. Haymitch should make us do distracting things that have no real purpose more often. It'll make me feel less guilty about doing distracting things that have no purpose on a regular basis."

Katniss leans forward in an attempt to see the paper. Peeta jerks himself and the list of games away, pretending to look deeply offended.

"Miss Everdeen, are you trying to _cheat_?"

The receptionist grins sheepishly and shrugs. "I couldn't help myself. Besides, you know I never play by the rules."

Peeta rolls his eyes at this fact, which he truly seems to already know about Katniss. "You'll never be my partner in Catchphrase ever again. Learned that the hard way at Johanna's birthday party. My God, you're so competitive. I don't know who to _trust_ anymore!"

In that moment, Beetee and Caesar approach the reception desk. They giggle like a couple of school girls, barely able to contain their excitement.

"Peeta, we have a game suggestion for you," Beetee whispers excitedly. "Are you taking suggestions?"

Peeta beams at the cameras. "Beetee Latier, coming to life! I love it, lay it on me."

"It's called 'Toleration Ball', because Clove always says that she has 'zero tolerance' for it," Caesar explains. "We play it at our desk clump whenever Haymitch is out or we're really bored. Which is a lot."

Beetee then extracts a large cardboard scorecard that dates all the way back to 2010. Peeta claps his hands together in amusement.

"Guys, this is amazing! We're taking it to the big leagues with the Games, for sure!"

Beetee and Caesar high five before scurrying off to practice their game.

Peeta starts to write it down when he notices Katniss' mischievous eyes watching his every move.

"Everdeen! Get a grip!"

"I'm sorry!" Katniss exclaims, throwing her hands in the air with a laugh. "I can't help it! I've been competitive since I could walk!"

Plucking the list from her desk and hugging it close to his chest, Peeta begins to saunter away, impishly looking over his shoulder at the now-miffed Katniss.

"This is strictly confidential stuff, Everdeen. Game-makers only. Besides, you and I have to train separately for these Games if I have any chance of winning," he says with a wink before disappearing into Haymitch's office.

Katniss smiles and watches him go. As she grabs her duplicated expense reports from the copier, Clove snickers.

"Something funny, Clove?" Katniss inquires, doing a double take as she realizes that Clove has been watching the exchanges at her reception desk for a while.

Clove shakes her head. Her straight, dark hair has been pulled tightly into a flawless ponytail, which sways as she moves closer to Katniss.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Are you excited for the Games?" Katniss asks politely, forcing a friendly smile on her face. Clove looks appalled.

"Ew, no."

"You don't play games?"

"I play plenty of games. I do pilates. I dangle crickets in front of my lizards. I play games, Katniss…just not at work."

Jabbing a paper clip chain through the piece of foil with particularly noticeable strength, Katniss makes it obvious that she intends to return to her work.

"Alright, well it was nice talking to you, Clove…" Katniss says, voice strained.

"Oh, I _do_ play this one game, actually!" Clove pipes up.

"You do?" Katniss exclaims, suddenly into the conversation. Her eyes light up with a friendliness that was not there before. "What is it? I can suggest it."

A sinister look flickers in her eyes as Clove steps dangerously close to Katniss' chair behind the reception desk.

"It's called Peeta Pong. I count how many times Peeta gets up from his desk and comes to reception to talk to you."

Katniss narrowly misses sending the paper clip through her finger.

"We're friends," she asserts, nearly crumbling the aluminum foil in her hand with her fist.

Clove widens her eyes, clearly in disapproval of Katniss' friendship with Peeta.

"Hmph. Apparently 'friendship' has a new meaning these days."

* * *

" _I have been Haymitch's number two guy for about five years, and we make a great team. He's a Leo, I'm an Aries. Very compatible, according to this one website, and probably some religious texts. We're like all the famous teams…Gollum and the ring, the Wizard and his hot air balloon, late night talk show hosts and the supporting personality that sits on the smaller couch…"_

 _Cato pauses reflectively. A small smile forms on his lips. "Haymitch is like Clooney, and I am like…his very dedicated security guard. Do you understand this analogy yet? Because I've got a good one about a stone and a hammer that I can elaborate on."_

* * *

"Which is why I feel like this… _monkey jumping_ …"

"It's called 'Muttspringen', Cato," Peeta interrupts, almost too seriously to be taken seriously. "If you're gonna critique it, at least get the name right. That game is very well known in the country where it originated."

From where he stands by a white board with an elaborately drawn out score sheet, Peeta's list of games in one hand and laser pointer in the other, Cato simmers. Haymitch, sipping from his mug, sends Cato a pointed look that tells him to calm down.

Cato takes a large breath and blinks sweetly at the blonde seated against the back wall of Haymitch's office.

"And what country would that be, Mellark?"

Peeta bites his lip. "Andalasia?"

* * *

 _When asked why Peeta used the made up land from_ Enchanted _as the country of origin for 'Muttspringen' in a private interview, Peeta explains:_

" _I have three nieces, and I babysit for my two older brothers a lot. I know my way around Disney geography."_

* * *

"Okay, well I feel like this 'Muttspringen' game could use a bit more _obstacle_."

"It's an obstacle course, Cato."

"I suggest we get real monkeys. I know a monkey guy. Works at the Philadelphia Zoo."

Peeta looks taken aback. "We're not getting real monkeys. What the hell would we do with them?"

Cato shrugs, as if the answer is obvious. "I bet they're trained to know what to do when they smell incompetent idiots. Hint: it's _attack and claw that idiot's face off._ "

Peeta objects loudly, and Haymitch cuts in.

"No real monkeys, dummy. We have enough people flinging their feces around like apes around here anyway," the manager finalizes. He props his elbows up on the desk and massages his temples.

Cato stiffens. He returns his attention to the list, scanning the contents like a madman.

"Then I propose that this sharpshooting game have actual weapons. Lucky for you, I keep a crossbow in my car…"

"No crossbow!" Haymitch snaps.

Cato looks miffed.

"You're never going to get the proper evaluation of the competitors if you don't have at least an ounce of authenticity to these games," he mutters.

"Are you going to suggest that I chop off my leg for the three-legged race, then?" Peeta asks, annoyed.

"It crossed my mind, yes."

"Oh my God, Cato!"

"The _real warriors_ will sacrifice great things for the integrity of these games!"

"Haymitch, are you _hearing_ this guy?"

Finally, Haymitch slams his hand down on the table and orders the two arguing salesmen to evacuate his office immediately.

"I need to be alone with my thoughts," Haymitch says as he stands. They leave. Cato pokes his head back into the office moments later, a curious glint in his eye.

"So you're going to think about the monkeys?"

"Dammit, Cato! Get the hell outta my office, boy!"

* * *

" _At the end of the day, I have to fire someone," Haymitch says, running his hand over his tired face. He stares out into the office, where people are milling about in preparation for the Games._

" _Corporate gave me my answer. It's right here in this packet of bullshit. But what kind of manager would I be if I let Corporate Headquarters, all the way up in New York City, determine the value of my workers? I have to see it for myself. The Games will decide the winners and losers. That way, I don't have to."_

 _When asked if he thinks the truth about the Corporate scores will come out at all, Haymitch crumples the score sheet up into a ball and aims for the 'Special Filing Cabinet'._

" _Now we won't have to worry about that happening._ _Belongs in the garbage, anyway. They can't tell me how to run my office."_

* * *

As Caesar, Cato, and Madge perform an off-key a capella version of the Olympic fanfare, Haymitch slowly raises a lit candle above his head. Clove and Johanna stand at either side of a large banner that reads "First Annual Office Games".

"Ladies and gentlemen-men-men-men," Haymitch bellows, making it look like he is creating his own echoing sound effects by cupping his hand over his mouth. "This candle-dle-dle burns with the eternal spirit of competition-on-on-on! And when I set this, uhm, this roll of paper towels on fire—"

"You will do no such thing," Effie corrects him with a not-so-subtle kick in the shin that causes Haymitch to waver and brings the flame dangerously close to Madge's loose blonde hair.

"Fine, Buzzkill. When I light this milk carton on fire—"

"No fires, Haymitch!"

"DAMN WOMAN, LET US HAVE FUN FOR ONCE."

"NOT WHEN FUN COMES IN THE WAY OF SAFETY!" Effie cries out, shrilly.

"Whatever. When I count backwards from ten, the Games will begin!"

Haymitch counts backwards from ten. The room erupts in a chorus of half-hearted cheers when he reaches one after echoing every number for about ten seconds each. Everyone moves on to the first game.

When Effie's back is turned, Haymitch sets the roll of paper towels on fire and quickly extinguishes it in the sink when the flames lick his fingers and cause him to exclaim a word that the crew has to bleep out.

* * *

Many of the games go off without a single hitch, much to the boss' surprise.

Caesar receives merit on his gold medal achievement in 'Bees in the Trap', a game that determines who can fit the most TicTacs in their mouth.

Effie wins gold in the high-heeled race, lapping her competitors and crossing the finish line while triumphantly pumping her fists in the least ladylike way imaginable.

Beetee dominates in 'Toleration Ball'.

Peeta shows off his strength in 'Bad Santa' (also known as lifting bags filled with coal).

Despite the lack of actual monkeys, Cato performs with a record time in 'Muttspringen', jumping over hurdles made with boxes from the warehouse with agility and ease.

Wiress and Madge take the gold as the winning team in the Office Scavenger Hunt, solving riddles and figuring out the hiding places of various pieces of coal like professionals.

Gale smokes the competition in the game titled 'Timber', which is essentially a large-scale version of Jenga that uses cardboard boxes. Johanna, the silver medal winner of the game, says it's probably because of his lumberjack skills.

Katniss gets every paper clip to land in the mugs placed at various distances throughout the office in the sharpshooting game. Peeta gives her a high five when she places the gold medal over her own shoulders.

Even Cinna gets into the spirit of the Games when he unassumingly wins the 'Quiet Game', a game he did not even know he had been playing as he read his style magazine at his desk while everyone succumbed to the pressure of having to be silent around him. He is surprisingly all smiles when he receives his medal.

Peeta is the biggest cheerleader in the room, treating his co-workers like true athletes whenever they are awarded in one of the games that he designed. Cato, as expected, is deemed by everyone as most competitive. Katniss is a surprising close second in the competitive category that no one, save Peeta, saw coming.

The office is filled with laughter and cheers all afternoon long, nonetheless.

All the while, Haymitch stands in the front of the office, quietly tabulating scores and drinking from a flask inside of his jacket pocket.

* * *

 _When asked how he thinks the games are going, Haymitch is astounded._

" _I've never seen them get this into something. There's this…drive to be good that has never been around when they're working. And the games are bringing out the strengths in just about everyone. I'm learning a lot about my crew today. For example, who knew that Caesar's big mouth could actually be used for something good? It's blowing my mind, and it's warming my heart to see them all so…happy…"_

 _He grimaces and pours himself a drink._

" _Too bad I have to fire one of them."_

* * *

 _Katniss smiles knowingly when the crew asks her._

" _Yeah, I think he made up games that would play to everyone's strengths on purpose. That's Peeta for you…he knows how to make you feel special."_

* * *

She finds him tearing up an old t-shirt from the supply closet to tie around the pairs' ankles. Grinning from ear to ear, she plops herself down to sit on the floor beside him and playfully jabs him in the ribcage with her elbow.

"I saw that Haymitch paired us up for the three-legged race. You better bring your A-game for this, Mellark. You know that I don't mess around," Katniss says, receiving a playful shove back.

Peeta yawns overdramatically. "I don't know, Everdeen. The day's events have tuckered me out. I mean, I know the three-legged race is the last big event, but…"

"Peeta, do not mess with me," Katniss demands, gray eyes suddenly serious. "We're not losing. You and I are going to win the gold foil medals, even if I have to drag your pacifistic ass across that finish line."

Peeta chuckles lightly.

"The more intense you get about this, the more I want to intentionally sabotage us just to see you get this mad again."

Katniss rolls her eyes. Smirking, she finally says, "Fine. We'll just have to let Cato and Clove win, I guess."

"Cato and Clove are a team? Now, we _have_ to win, or else we'll never be able to live it down."

Katniss laughs. "Oh, I almost forgot! Check out what I made for the big winner."

Pulling an old cardboard shoebox out from behind her, Katniss removes the lid to reveal a crown. It is shaped to look like a crown of laurels, made up of construction paper, pipe cleaner, twine, glitter and leaves from office plants.

Peeta's eyes light up as he takes the delicate crown in his hands.

"This is amazing, Everdeen! You've truly outdone yourself! This is _perfect_ for the closing ceremonies at the end of the day," he cheers, holding up his hand for a high-five. Katniss happily obliges.

"It was nothing, really."

Peeta continues to praise her, calling her the 'MVP' as he begins hoisting himself up from the floor. He reaches down to help lift Katniss up. They stumble a bit from the momentum, and Peeta catches her to stabilize them both. Her face comes dangerously close to his face. They stay like this, holding each other and staring into each other's eyes, for just a moment longer than friends would.

Peeta laughs awkwardly, breaking the heated moment, and offers another high-five.

"Better bring these back to the boss," Peeta says, gesturing toward the scraps of t-shirt in his hands. "Have you noticed how strung out he looks this afternoon?"

Katniss nods. "He's the one who had the idea for the Games, and now it's as if he wants nothing to do with them."

"Maybe he ran out of white liquor," Peeta jokes, eliciting another laugh from Katniss.

"Well, I'll see you at the race?" she says as he starts to make his way to Haymitch's office. Peeta smiles brightly and nods.

"See you then, partner."

Grinning to herself, Katniss makes her way around the same corner when she spots Clove, who smirks wickedly from where she leans against Katniss' desk at reception. Holding up a small notepad, Clove records what appears to be a tally for her game of Peeta Pong before she saunters off.

* * *

"Attention, athletes! We have reached the final event of the day: the three-legged race!"

There is a resounding cheer, much stronger than the low-energy response earlier in the afternoon. The teams all stand at attention by the starting line in the annex: Peeta and Katniss, Cato and Clove, Beetee and Wiress, Cinna and Effie, Gale and Madge, Cray and Sae, and Caesar and Johanna.

"Now, remember, the rules are simple here. Get to the finish line first, with your tie still around your ankles. The connected feet have to cross the line before any other part of the body can."

The cameras pan to peer through the window of the annex to the track that Haymitch has marked off with blue painter's tape. The path often appears to be very narrow, as if only one pair can fit in between the two blue lines.

"It's going to be tough, but I want you kids to get clever here. Cheating, such as pushing people down, is allowed. In fact, it's highly encouraged. Watch."

Haymitch demonstrates by shoving his full weight against Effie's shoulder. The orange-haired woman cries out and collapses almost immediately, bringing an unsuspecting Cinna down in her wake. The man shoots Haymitch daggers with his dark eyes while Effie complains about Haymitch's lack of tact.

Readying himself in position, and jostling Clove's tiny frame around as he does so, Cato leans in toward Peeta.

"I hope you like loserberry pie, Baker Boy, because you're going to have a lifetime supply of it once I'm through with you," Cato sneers.

"I just hope that you can come up with a better burn than loserberry pie once you're through with me. Loserberry sounds like an interesting flavor, though…I hope _you_ like it, though, since you'll be the one stuck with that pitiful name copyright. Oh, and since Everdeen and I are winning this," Peeta counters. Katniss snickers.

Catching how spurned Cato looks while Katniss and Peeta wear matching shit-eating grins, Clove steps in with trash talk of her own.

"Katniss, maybe we should call Darius up here to watch the race. I'm sure he would love to watch his fiancée giggle while attached to another male like a harlot."

Katniss glowers, and Peeta turns a new shade of bright red that gives Effie's hair a run for its money.

"You know what? You can tally me all you want, Clove," she lowers her voice and leans in toward the shorter woman, careful to avoid letting Peeta hear. "The only score I'm going to be keeping is how many people trip over your fragile little body once I push it down."

"I don't get why none of you are even _considering_ the _obvious_ fact that Gale and I are going to win this," Madge cuts in. She has tied her blonde hair back with a ribbon. Gripping onto Gale's bicep, she squeals with delight.

"Our first challenge as a couple!" she cheers.

When she rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes contentedly, Gale mouths "Hashtag Save the Temp" to the cameras.

Haymitch begins his usual countdown from ten. When he sets off the gong ringtone on his cell phone, the teams spring into action. Katniss wastes no time tripping Clove, who pulls Katniss down with her as she falls. Cato and Peeta bang heads.

Beetee and Wiress move about the course slowly and methodically, and their plan works for a while since everyone else took the cheating approach right out of the gate and ended up in a giant human knot as a result.

Madge and Gale untangle themselves quickly and surpass the older pairing. Madge makes the mistake of turning around to laugh in Beetee's face, however, and she is met with Johanna's hand smushing her cheek and forcing her and Gale back onto the floor.

Cackling together, Johanna and Caesar step over their prey and move on.

Eventually, the race is narrowed down to Katniss and Peeta versus Cato and Clove. Everyone else, nursing minor injuries and scattered along the trail, manages to cheer for their favorite pairing.

Haymitch heckles the groups from his comfy place at the finish line.

Neck and neck, the two three-legged pairs trash talk each other as they continually push bodies out of the way and fight to take the lead.

Katniss and Peeta have just gained the upperhand, Cato cursing Mellark's rotten name, when the race suddenly comes to a jarring halt. With the force of their stop catching up to them, Cato and Clove topple to the floor. Katniss grips onto Peeta's middle for support, and Peeta throws his arm around Katniss' shoulders when he starts to teeter.

The cheering turns into palpable silence. Everyone freezes in place, shocked expressions on their faces.

Haymitch's calls are the only sounds that can be heard throughout the now speechless office.

"C'mon, you pansies! The timer's still going! You call that a race? Come on!" Haymitch heckles, trying to force the life back into his now inanimate employees.

"What's gotten into you all? You look like you've just seen a ghost…"

From behind him, the sound of a woman clearing her throat can be heard. Haymitch whirls around and drops his stopwatch, still running, when he comes face to face with his boss.

"Hello, Haymitch," Alma Coin says.

"Alma? What are you doing here?" Haymitch croaks.

Coin stiffens. "I've been trying to reach you all afternoon, but all of my calls have gone straight to voicemail."

Katniss nervously glances at the blinking, idle phone on her desk before expressing her worry to the camera.

"I thought I would come down here and see _why_ you were choosing to ignore me. I had assumed that the expense reports had you all busy with work. But, it appears as though…this, whatever this is…is far more important than keeping this company afloat."

"Alma, I can explain. These games were helping me score everyone," Haymitch starts.

A gray eyebrow makes its way up Alma's forehead.

"Scores? You?"

"I was, um…getting a more, uh…accurate assessment of my employees' value than the scores Corporate sent me," Haymitch admits. The shocked expressions among the office workers deepen at this news. No one knew what was really going on.

Alma Coin, a master of terrifying stillness, glances dismissively at the cameras before asking Haymitch to join her in her office alone.

"They can vouch for me! We've been having a great day of determining our skills, right, gang?"

Not a single competitor speaks up. Silently and sullenly, the workers begin to return to their respective posts throughout the office and continue to do their jobs.

"Guys? C'mon, guys! What about 'Timber'? Or 'Muttspringen'? We had so much fun while team building, right everyone? Guys…"

"Haymitch," Coin orders from his office door. Tail tucked between his legs and head hanging in shame, Haymitch shuffles to his office like a wounded puppy and shuts the door behind him.

* * *

" _I finished my expense reports and got them in to Beetee about twenty minutes after the Games ended. And then I closed two more sales," Peeta tells the cameras sadly, while Clove and Wiress can be seen taking down decorations through the window behind him. "So, yeah, today was just as productive as every other day I've had here…maybe more so."_

* * *

The office remains eerily silent for the next hour, save the muffled sounds of Coin's angry shouting coming from inside of Haymitch's office.

Gale slowly walks up to the waste basin by reception. Making uncomfortable eye contact with Katniss as he does so, he disposes of his medal. Watching from behind her computer screen, Katniss purses her lips. She is obviously hurt.

"Look, it's nothing personal, Catnip," Gale says with a shrug.

"Katniss," the receptionist corrects him quietly.

"Yeah, right. Sorry. It was either I toss it out now, or wait for a few weeks and then toss it out. No hard feelings. Today was nice."

He pauses before going back to his desk.

"You ever been hunting?"

Katniss' eyebrows knit together at the question that seems very out of the blue, considering she was not in on the previous conversation about her.

"Uh, yeah."

"Would you ever wanna…sometime…"

"I'm engaged," she replies icily, turning away from him.

Katniss watches him sulk all the way back to his desk, and Peeta watches the sadness creep into her features from where he sits.

* * *

Meanwhile, the cameras hide behind the plants that surround Haymitch's office and listen in on the conversation. The mic pack that the doc crew has the employees wear has thankfully not been turned off by Haymitch.

Coin chews the manager out for directly disobeying her orders, distracting his employees, and making a mockery of Panem.

"I just don't understand what you were _thinking,_ Haymitch!"

"I was thinking I would let my team have a little fun before I had to slaughter my family by gutting one of my own," Haymitch grumbles.

"No, you were thinking, once again, that your ideas were far superior to those of your actual superiors! Corporate is now going to need an explanation for why the District Twelve branch has been playing games all day long, and your employees now need an explanation for why these games were secretly evaluations of their worth."

"To be fair, you evaluated their worth first. I was just doing it much more nicely by letting games be involved."

"You're _unbelievable."_

"You ought to loosen your corset, Sweetheart," Haymitch says, trying to placate the frazzled woman. He reaches into his jacket and holds something shiny out to her. "Care for a drink?"

Coin nearly slaps the flask out of his hands.

* * *

Everyone is gathered in the conference room minutes later. Alma Coin has appeared to have cooled off very little since the cameras last saw her, while Haymitch quietly stands behind her, rendered speechless as Alma takes over.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I know some of you have heard things about 'scores' from Corporate, so I'd like to take this moment to discuss with you what was really going on today, since your manager could not handle that task," Coin begins.

Everyone looks nervously at Haymitch, who simply shrugs to the cameras.

"This morning, Corporate sent Haymitch a list of scores for each of you, as a reflection of your performance over the past three quarters in your given jobs. The people with the lowest scores were going to be considered by Haymitch, and of those, he was going to have to let one of those low-scoring employees go at his discretion. However, Haymitch's discretion translated to these time wasting, inefficient…Games…"

Katniss can be seen glancing across the room to Peeta, who looks ashamed to have the games he made up be considered time-wasting, inefficient, and a way to get someone he works with fired. He meets her eyes, and she offers him a reassuring smile. Peeta smiles sadly back.

"Now, I have with me the scores that Corporate has delegated to each of you. It is only fair, at this point, that you are all kept in the loop. Since Haymitch has refused to share the scores with you today, I will read them aloud."

There is an obvious mood shift in the room. Even Haymitch looks uneasy with what is about to happen.

"Let's start with the receptionist, Miss Katniss Everdeen. Corporate gave you a score of…10."

"Out of 10? Way to go, Sweetheart!" Haymitch rejoices, letting go of the huge breath he was holding. Katniss looks stunned, but nods respectfully.

Coin shakes her head. "No, Haymitch. I sent you the criteria points, remember? The score is out of 12."

Haymitch stiffens. "Well, then I give Katniss a 12."

"That isn't how this works," Coin says, heaving a sigh.

"I'm fine with a 10, Haymitch," Katniss says softly.

"No you're not, Everdeen. You deserve better."

Haymitch whips out a sheet of paper, containing a printed out spreadsheet with dozens of markings done in red ink. The cameras zoom in to reveal that it is the score sheet from the Games.

"Well, according to what I've got here, she gets a 12. Katniss Everdeen earned a gold medal in a game that required concentration, precision, and patience, which is what she shows me every single day at work. I bet that your score can't tell you that."

Coin swallows hard and turns away from the slightly inebriated man. From where she sits, Katniss stares, wide-eyed at Haymitch with a look that is a cross between gratitude and disbelief.

"Plus, she's got spunk!" Haymitch continues. He points an accusing finger at Coin. "More than you! More than the chumps at Corporate!"

"That's enough. We're moving on. Clove Sevina, head of accounting. Your score is 8."

Clove's chest puffs and her nostrils flare.

"Nope. Clove gets a 12 on her organizational skills alone. The day wouldn't have even worked without her decorations and planning of the itinerary. The whole perfectionist thing may be annoying as hell, but no one knows how to get a job done like Clove. She gets a 12 in my book."

Alma Coin huffs.

"Cato Hadley, salesman, with a score of 9."

"From me, his score is 12."

"Haymitch, you can't just give everyone a perfect score and expect it to nullify Corporate's tabulations. There was a system…"

"Our Games had a system, too. And Cato helped create that system. He could have easily made it unfair for everyone else, but Cato has always worked hard to earn his successes. No one can tackle more obstacles than he can, and if you had watched him during 'Muttspringen', you would know that."

"…I'm sorry, 'Muttspringen'?" Coin blinks in confusion.

Haymitch gives her a look that seems to say, "duh" when he responds, "It's from Andalasia, Alma."

As hard as he tries to remain professional-looking in front of Coin, there is no denying the smile that begins to form on Cato's lips.

"Johanna Mason, Purchasing/Supplier Relations, with a score of…7."

"Yeah, I won't argue that one. That one's fair."

Johanna shrugs, accepting the score.

"True, it's fair. I'm just happy my number wasn't in the negatives."

"But she proved me wrong _a lot_ today with her involvement in the Games," Haymitch pipes up. "That thing you did…where you could sniff out the Axe Body Spray in the room while you were blindfolded…crazy, how good you were at that."

"Thanks, Old Man," Johanna says with a wink and a boastful smirk.

"Peeta Mellark, salesman, with a score of…4."

Haymitch's reaction to this has to be censored, it is that severe. Everyone looks taken aback and offended by their co-worker's score, save Cato, who loses all sense of professionalism when he jumps up, points in Peeta's face, barks out a laugh, and takes a victory lap around the conference room.

"Sit your ass back down, you fool," Cinna hisses as he yanks Cato by the belt back into a chair when he tries to go for a second lap.

Haymitch shakes his head, stunned. "You mean to tell me that Corporate thinks that kid right there is only worth a 4?"

Coin straightens out her gray pencil skirt and nods tersely.

"Based on the criteria, yes."

"You've got it all wrong, then. Because that boy should have a big ol' 12."

"The sales the past three quarters haven't been Peeta's best, especially in comparison to other salesmen like Cato."

"But he's strong. He's got a lot of fight in him. He may not use it all the time, but Peeta has so much potential. That really shows when he cares, truly cares about something. He doesn't give up, and he didn't give up on anyone today. You think it was a coincidence that everyone walked out of the Games with a gold medal? So I don't care about your stupid sales quotas, Alma. This company could downsize a thousand times and never deserve this boy!"

Immediately following this rant, Alma drags Haymitch by the shirt collar back into his office. He screams some more obscenities as he goes.

The cameras come around to survey the varying looks of shock that have filled the faces in the conference room. Peeta sits in the middle of the room, jaw unhinged and hanging open in utter disbelief as he looks off to where Haymitch just was, and then back at the cameras.

* * *

" _Well, they had to get President Snow involved, but Haymitch and Coin eventually settled on averaging the scores from Corporate and from the Games together to make a new score. The lowest of the combined scores' averages will be the person who is let go," Peeta explains in a private interview. He pauses to calculate._

" _Which gives me…an 8. Sure, I'll never be able to live down that Cato scored higher than me, but an 8's pretty generous, considering the amount of work I actually do around here."_

 _Pausing again, Peeta sits, deep in thought, before looking back into the camera._

" _That was nice, what Haymitch said. He didn't have to say it…I don't know. It's always nice to know that you're doing something right, I guess. I may be mediocre at my job, but at least my boss thinks that I deserve it."_

* * *

" _My new average is an 11. I can finally breathe about this whole downsizing thing, I guess," Katniss tells the camera crew, relief in her soft voice. "Means I can hold onto my job for a little while longer. I can afford to send Prim to medical school…maybe look into serving a nicer chicken dish at the wedding."_

 _Running a hand over her braid, she smiles to herself._

" _Today was a lot of fun. No matter what happens, at least the person who goes will have had a fun last day."_

* * *

As people continue to be called one-by-one into Haymitch's office for a private evaluation, the tone of the main office dampens more and more.

Suddenly, the sound of a dozen computers pinging with the sound of a new email revives the living dead that sit at their desks.

Reading the content of the email, the camera focuses on Wiress as a huge smile covers her face. She giggles, spins around in her chair to face Peeta at the desk-clump next to hers, and nods. Others begin to mirror the sentiment, until everyone in the office is sporting matching grins.

Even Cato joins in, nodding in approval of whatever the email has asked everyone to do.

Looking over the counter of her desk, Katniss raises up her hand to Peeta, mouthing 'MVP'. He reciprocates her air-five.

* * *

Haymitch Abernathy does not have a very good poker face.

When he calls Greasy Sae into his office, he is visibly perspiring, wringing his hands in front of him, and stumbling over his words.

Luckily, Sae's old bones take a good while for her to drag herself over to Haymitch, giving the manager ample time to compose himself.

Unspoken looks of nervousness and fear are tossed around like a hot potato between the remaining employees when the door shuts behind Greasy Sae.

Inside of the office, Haymitch is struggling to stay away from the flask that Alma now has clasped in her hands. The manager makes a series of loud noises—groans and exhalations—before finally looking up at the old woman, who looks surprisingly serene. Alma clears her throat after a long time has passed with Haymitch having buried his head in his hands.

"Sae, you are…great, and very ambitious, and…you're pungent—that means you're always on time," Haymitch starts.

Sae crinkles her nose. "No, that means I smell."

"Well, you get it. Anyway, I feel like you want more than this office has to offer. You're ready to spread your Greasy wings and just fly on to bigger and better things with…well, for instance, with your granddaughter…"

"What was my score, Sonny?"

Haymitch arches his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"My score. What was it?"

"Um, it was…1. Your score came out to 1."

Sae leans back in her chair. "So I had the worst score?"

"Yeah. There was no saving it. Not even with the average."

"This is a misunderstanding. No one else had a worse score?"

"No." The conversation looks as though it physically pains Haymitch.

"You can't do a recount? Switch some more things around? I won the gold in the trash picking game, Haymitch. I want to stay in the place where that's allowed."

Haymitch shakes his head.

"No, you wanna go."

Sae shakes her head.

"No, I wanna stay."

This banter goes on for a while.

Finally, Sae slams her fists on Haymitch's desk with surprising force for someone that old.

"Let's fight this. You and me, just like in the old days," she says suddenly.

"Old days? Sae, I can't, I have to—"

"Call up Corporate and undo this, Haymitch!"

Coin coughs. "I'm right here, you know."

"Sae, look, I have to fire someone today. Today is my deadline. Someone needs to be let go today."

"Fine, then fire someone else," Sae says. An idea hits her. "Fire Cray. He's just as old. He didn't even win a damn trophy today. I'm better at my job than he is. What was his score?"

Haymitch massages his temples. "I can't share that. And I already picked you, so…I can't live with you looking at me every day and thinking of me as the guy who almost fired you."

"No, no, no I won't!" Sae pleads, her voice rising. "You'll be my savior. This old brain will forget right away about this whole thing. Fire Cray. I bet his score is no better than mine."

"You're wrong, actually. His score was a 2, and that's with Corporate giving him a 1 and the Games giving him a 3, so…" Haymitch trails off when he realizes that he disclosed the information he just said he would not tell Sae. Coin rolls her eyes.

"2? And I got a 1? All his points were from the Games? He didn't win any medals! How'd he get points?"

"Participation. Teamwork. He bought me Kahlua last Christmas…"

"I did those things better. I got you scalped concert tickets to see Cher when she came to town. _Cher_ , Haymitch."

Haymitch pauses, taking all of this into serious consideration, especially the Cher tickets. Alma looks into the camera in disgust.

"Okay, you raise some good points. I'll have go back in and change some of my scoring, then."

"What's Cray got now?"

"From me? Zero."

"So that makes my score better," Sae says with finality as she rises. She clasps Haymitch's hands in her own, despite his sounds of protest, and kisses each of his knuckles. "Thank you for seeing it my way, Sonny. Cray is awful. I'm better."

Sae leaves before Haymitch can get a word in edgewise. Alma Coin looks like she has given up all hope in humanity.

* * *

" _Phew! Why yes, I have done some work in the black market," Sae says this with no prompting questions; she just walked right into the room and demanded a private interview._

 _Then, she reacts as if she is receiving the highest of compliments when asked how she became so good at persuasion. "I also sell corn husk dolls at the local flea market and lots of…herbs…online."_

 _She leans in very close and gives the camera a wink._

" _Point is, I'm_ real _good at negotiating."_

* * *

"What?" Orin Cray spits out. "You actually listened to that old hag? You know Sae's crazy, you know that!"

Haymitch shakes his head solemnly, looking sicker for round two of this termination process.

"I know, and that's why she was my original choice."

"See? You had it right the first time! You should go with your gut!"

"Eh, maybe I did have it right…" Hayitch says wearily. It is clear that he is beginning to waver in his resolve again. Alma sends him a pointed look that tells him he ought to think better of it. He is not allowed any more flip-flopping.

"But the thing is…no, I can't go back. I would look like an idiot. I already have the new score written in red ink."

Cray looks deranged with anger. "That's what this boils down to? You don't wanna look like an idiot or use a little whiteout, so I get fired?"

"No, there were…other things. Like, uh, costs…and Cher. I just hope we can still be friends, Cray."

Orin throws his head back and cackles. It is acerbic and causes Haymitch, and even Coin, to wince.

"Unbelievable. Screw you, Haymitch, and screw you, Coin! Screw this whole (bleeeeep) company!"

The cameras follow Cray, Haymitch, and Coin as they rush through the door and follow the mad ex-employee to the exit. Everyone rises, anxious to watch the commotion play out.

"Cray, please," Haymitch begs, fishing around in his wallet. "Let me make it up to you. I've got a…punch card for the liquor store, and…thirty seven—no, thirty-eight—cents…"

"Take it and shove it, you old, drunk bastard," Cray shouts, flinging his coat over his arm. "You all can go to hell!"

He leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Everyone remains paralyzed in shock for a few moments.

"Well, what are y'all staring at? It's done. Get back to work," Haymitch says, shooting a scornful glare at Coin. "You happy? I did what you asked me to, and now I feel like a jerk."

Alma, looking far more emotionally drained than she must have suspected she would be by coming to District Twelve today, wordlessly waves goodbye to Haymitch before ducking her head and bowing out of the office.

Haymitch turns his attention to the remaining, shell-shocked employees. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, the manager lets out a strangled sound and retreats into his office.

Peeta is first to rise.

"Athletes, you all know the drill," he says. He claps, and the employees of District Twelve spring into action.

* * *

"Knock, knock," Peeta says, his head poking into Haymitch's office.

Keeping his back to the entrance, the manager silently stares out the window. The cameras pan down to reveal that his car has been spray painted on every surface by zeroes, undoubtedly drawn by a vengeful Cray.

Peeta presses his lips into a thin line. Dramatically leaning his forehead against the window, Haymitch whines that he just wants to be left alone.

Haymitch heaves a heavy sigh when the salesman does not leave. "Not now, Peeta. Just…just tell everyone to go turn in early tonight. Even though those meetings kept you all for an extra hour…"

"Alright, but you might want to come out here first. There's something for you."

Haymitch has suddenly turned around, rejuvenated.

"Really?"

* * *

When Peeta leads Haymitch out of his personal office, the manager's expression quickly shifts from sullen to awestruck.

The camera pans around to reveal that the decorations have been put back up. The national anthem blares from Beetee's computer speakers. Everyone stands in a semi-circle around a box at the center of the room, each person holding a small, lit candle and wearing a reverent smile. Katniss has adorned the center box with origami doves.

"What's this?" Haymitch asks.

Peeta shrugs, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"We never got to have the closing ceremonies."

Peeta then leads Haymitch to the box and has him stand to face his employees.

"People of Panem-em-em," Peeta bellows. "We fought. We dared. We played the Games. But one man stands above them all, the man who gave us the greatest gift of them all-all-all…"

"Distraction?" Haymitch guesses bitterly.

"He gave us hope, the only thing stronger than fear, when we needed it most. That's why we award you, Haymitch Abernathy, with the champion's crown-own-own!"

The room erupts in applause. Cato whistles. Katniss steps up on a stool and places the crown that she designed on the top of Haymitch's head and a gold medal around his neck with a warm smile.

Tears glisten in the boss' eyes, his emotions fueled by his alcohol intake.

"Wow…I don't really know what to say. I don't make speeches, but…well, thank you. Today, Corporate showed us that we must always bear in mind that they can be the real enemy in times of crisis…"

As he speaks, Katniss yawns, the day having taken a great toll on her. Without much thought, she lets her head rest on Peeta's shoulder. The boy looks shocked for a moment of brief panic, staring down at the head of dark curls that rest so close to his face.

He eventually looks away from her to give the cameras a small smile.

* * *

" _Today was fun. And then it got bad. And then it got worse," Peeta tells the cameras. Behind him, Katniss can be seen engaging in a conversation with Johanna. There is a number of aluminum medals still draped over her arm._

" _Overall, it wasn't a bad day, though," Peeta says with a smile. "I definitely couldn't have gotten through it alone, that's for sure."_

* * *

"…The economy isn't getting any better, and our business will face many struggles in the future. But I promise you, as long as we stick together and none of you interfere with my drinking, then I will stay sober enough to lead us through the fire!"

"Cato, release the fireworks-s-s!" Peeta calls, using his announcer voice again. Cato rounds the corner with sparklers in each hand, beaming now that he finally could use one of the weapons he had in his car.

Beetee blasts the national anthem again, and slowly, each employee raises their three middle fingers to their lips before holding them toward the sky.

"What the hell is that? Sign language?" Haymitch asks.

From where he stands on Haymitch's left side, tall and proud with his three fingers in the air, Peeta snorts.

"No, it's the office sign of thanks. Duh."

Haymitch is rendered silent after this. With tears in his eyes, he mimics the move and thanks his athletes.

* * *

 _In his final private interview, Haymitch reflects on his taxing day._

" _My office is like a well-oiled machine. We've got all the right cogs and whistles doing their job to keep our machine moving forward, and that's what matters most. But, you know, every machine has its squeaky wheel. Sometimes, even if you don't wanna go through the hassle of doing it, you have to throw the rusty, squeaky wheel out in order for the rest of the machine to function, I suppose."_

 _He smirks. "Never thought you'd have to inspect every part of the machine so thoroughly, though. Imagine if you had to score every little gear in your vacuum."_

 _The manager pauses, his eyes falling on the folder containing the scores that Coin had to fish out of his trashcan. It rests on his desk._

" _I saw my name on that list, you know. Never bothered to check it, because obviously, I wasn't going anywhere—I'm not gonna lie, though…I'm a little curious…"_

 _He takes the paper out of the folder. He crumples it. He looks at the wastebasket._

" _Probably best to let this one go…"_

 _He looks at the wastebasket, then back at the wad of paper. Then, he uncrumples it and begins to scan the list._

 _He finds his name, eyes lingering on it for a long while._

 _Finally, he looks up at the camera and smiles._

" _I got a six. I'm exactly average," Haymitch announces with pride._

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! Thank you all so, so much for your feedback on the first chapter of this fic! I'm really glad to hear that a lot of you who know _The Office_ found this take believable and even those of you who haven't watched enjoyed what you read. I hope everyone is enjoying the little _Hunger Games_ easter eggs among _The Office_ moments. Please keep it up with the feedback, because I would love to hear it and keep writing these episodic chapters up for you all. I truly appreciate it! **

**I'll do my best to get a new update out quickly. With my other fic, _Ghosts That We Knew,_ and general life to also juggle, I can't really determine set intervals for chapter releases, but the more feedback I get, the more skilled I can be at juggling. Thanks again!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	3. Year One: That is Mahogany!

**Disclaimer: Both The Hunger Games and The Office (US) belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing around with the worlds. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year One, Episode Three: That is Mahogany!**

"Happy Halloween, Haymitch!" Katniss greets her boss, grinning from ear to ear as she joins him in the lobby of the office building. She is dressed as a cat, with a black top and black pants, a painted on nose and whiskers, and cat ears atop her head.

Haymitch nods back curtly, and the dark hairs of his pirate wig flying into his eyes. Katniss smirks, and her whiskers wrinkle.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, huh? I didn't know that you were a _Pirates of the Caribbean_ fan…"

"I'm not, Sweetheart. I wanted to be Captain Morgan. Technically, this isn't even Jack Sparrow; it's 'Sensual Pirate Johnny Depp'. Apparently, the shady costume store near my condo doesn't sell _real_ costumes. So I went with the next best thing. It was either this or Slutty Explorer...who bore striking resemblance to Dora."

Katniss eyes how disappointed the costume snafu has truly made her boss and smiles sadly. She places a hand on the shoulder of his ruffled dress shirt.

"I can go and grab you a bottle of Captain Morgan's from Ripper's Liquor Store after I get settled in, so you can carry it around with you during the Halloween party."

Haymitch beams under his Sensual Pirate Johnny Depp mustache. "You're one in a million, Kitty Kat."

Katniss shrugs. Placating Haymitch and going on liquor runs are not out of the ordinary for this particular receptionist.

"I just have to make it quick. My sister Prim is coming in today, remember? I talked to you about this last week. She's coming home from Pitt for the weekend, and you told me to invite her to the Halloween party…"

* * *

" _Halloween was always me and my sister's favorite holiday growing up," Katniss candidly tells the cameras. "Probably because our mom and dad loved it so much. My mom would spend hours every night at the sewing machine coming up with our costumes, and then our dad would take us to a surprise neighborhood every year that he had already mapped out. At the end of the night, we would sort all of our candy into piles...silly stuff, but some of my best childhood memories happened on Halloween."_

 _She grins again, a bit sadder this time. "Prim and I have tried to keep Halloween happy. Last year was the first time we spent Halloween apart, because she couldn't get home from school. I'm—I'm just really excited that she's going to be here this year…even if it means coming to my work party."_

* * *

"Yeah, I remember, Sweetheart," Haymitch cuts her off as he hits the button on the elevator to bring them upstairs. "You wouldn't show me pictures of her."

"She's twenty, Haymitch," Katniss, now a very serious-looking black cat, chides as she steps into the elevator when the doors open.

Haymitch shrugs and mutters, "It's legal." Katniss makes a gagging noise.

Before the doors can close, an arm with a cuffed dress-shirt sleeve stops them. Peeta, dressed casually for a normal day of work, strides into the elevator.

"Morning, Katniss," he says with a smile. As if he is just noticing the pirate in the corner of the elevator, Peeta offers Haymitch a half-hearted greeting as well.

"Happy Halloween to you too, Mellark," Haymitch hisses. "What the hell are you supposed to be, anyway?"

Peeta shrugs. "A salesman at Panem Electric."

Katniss eyes Peeta as if he has just slapped her across the face.

"Where's your holiday spirit, Scrooge?"

Peeta holds up his hands defensively. "Whoa, don't drag Christmas into this, Everdeen. I happen to _love_ Christmas. I'm just…not a Halloween fan, I guess. Dressing up isn't my thing."

Haymitch clicks his tongue disapprovingly at his salesman.

"Makes sense, considering Halloween is one of those holidays that would require you to put some effort into it," he grumbles.

"You know what, fine," Peeta, feeling pressured from both ends, huffs. He looks down at his painfully plain outfit and waves his hands around as if he searching for an idea. Finally, he comes up with something. He pulls out a charcoal-colored sweater from his bag and pulls it over his head.

"I'm a lump of coal. Happy Halloween."

Katniss grins, and Peeta smiles once he realizes how happy his small effort has made her.

The elevator doors are stopped by another hand coming through the narrowed opening.

Johanna, dressed head to toe in strategically placed leaves and twigs, traipses into the elevator, a wicked look in her chocolate brown eyes.

Surveying the other costumes, she sarcastically tells the drunk pirate, uncomfortable cat, and half-assed lump of coal that they look 'amazing'.

The elevator is silent. Running her fingers through her short, dark hair, Johanna adds, "Enjoying the view?"

Katniss, who is instantly perturbed by Johanna's confidence and revealing costume, tugs at the conservative black turtleneck collar of her sweater.

"No."

Johanna rolls her eyes and gestures toward Peeta, whose jaw hangs to the floor. "I wasn't talking to you, Brainless. Like my costume, Blondie? I'm a tree."

When it seems that Peeta is at a loss for words, Haymitch smirks.

"You've outdone yourself this year, Mason. Best tree costume I've ever seen."

"Not a tree..." Katniss grumbles.

Johanna turns around, her voluptuous backside facing Peeta, and asks if he will help her rearrange some of the leaves on her back that got mismatched in the car. Swallowing wordlessly, Peeta obliges while Haymitch chokes back laughter.

Katniss, meanwhile, looks like she would rather be anywhere but this elevator. She shoots Peeta a look that judges him for going along with Johanna's request, and Peeta sends both the receptionist and the cameras a helpless look while his fingers fumble with the foliage.

With the leaves re-situated on her back, Johanna turns and faces her three stunned co-workers with a smug, triumphant smile, just as the elevator pings and opens up on their floor.

"Thanks," Johanna calls over her shoulder as she saunters out of the elevator. "Happy Halloween!"

"A happy Halloween indeed," Haymitch says with a chuckle.

* * *

" _I have been head of the Committee and Regiment Ensuring Entertaining Recreation Seasonally, or CAREERS, for a year now," Clove tells the cameras in a private interview. She is dressed as though she is from the Victorian era._

" _We_ _plan all of the branch's holiday and birthday parties, and they are clean, efficient, and themed to perfection. Normally, I find the shenanigans of Halloween to be a waste of time, and frankly, Satanic. Besides, the people of this office only use it as an excuse to get drunk and vandalize our workplace almost every year…but since the CAREERS are in charge of the party now, I will make sure that we have the classiest Halloween party yet."_

* * *

The rest of the CAREERS consists of Johanna Mason, Madge Undersee, and Wiress Hicks.

"Now, Ladies, as we discussed, the theme for this year's Halloween party theme is _Medieval Mayhem_ …"

" _You_ decided that," Wiress mutters miserably to herself from the inside of her robot costume. It is clear that she and Clove do not agree on very much when it comes to party planning.

"Madge, do we have the harpsichord music ready?"

Madge nods. She is dressed as what she called 'the prettier sister from _Frozen_ ' when she explained it to the crew, Anna.

"Yup. All one hundred songs in one playlist. It's boring and _so_ not Top 40 like I would have preferred, but it's there."

"But, but…what about 'Monster Mash'?" Wiress asks quietly.

Clove ignores this. Madge shakes her head consolingly, as if to say that Monster Mash has passed away.

"Johanna, the activities?"

Now very bored and playing with the leaves that have started to peel off of her chest, Johanna goes through the motions that she clearly cares very little about. She says that she has prepped both Halloween Trivia and an organized area for chatter in the corner in the conference room.

Wiress bangs her robot head on the table and lets out a single, "Why?"

Clove stiffens. "Is there a problem, Wiress?"

* * *

" _I'll tell you what the problem is," Wiress whines openly. It is clear that she is afraid to say any of this to Clove's face, so she's letting it all out for the cameras. "The problem is that these parties_ used _to be fun. Now, we have to do what Clove says all the time…I don't like being bossed around…especially by someone that tiny. If I were planning these parties, there would at least be a clever theme. And 'Monster Mash'."_

* * *

Wiress mumbles to herself for a while, a series of incoherent syllables and moans, until Clove barks that she speak up.

"It's just that you plan these parties for yourself, Clove. It isn't what everyone in the office wants."

"Yeah," Madge chimes in, her sass levels very high now that someone else took initiative to stand up to the head of the committee. "We want to have fun."

"We can't have that with your scepter up your ass, you royal pain," Johanna snipes, joining in whilst having a jab at Clove's elaborate costume.

Clove blinks, as if not understanding what the other members of the party planning committee have presented to her.

"What's better than an organized, quiet get together between co-workers in which we condemn fake identities for the sake of personal indulgence?"

"Alcohol's better, for one thing," Johanna calls out. Wiress nods and points her bony finger in Johanna's direction.

The Victorian Queen ruffles her skirts and delivers a pointed glare at Wiress.

"What did you have in mind then, Wiress?"

The older woman shrugs. "We could have a raffle…"

"No."

"Karaoke's fun."

"Absolutely not."

"Drunk bobbing for apples?"

"Yes!" Johanna shouts at the exact same time Clove shrieks "No!"

"Are you _trying_ to give us all flesh eating diseases, Wiress? Besides, none of those coincide with our theme of _Medieval Mayhem._ "

"All I'm saying is that we have worked hard. We deserve to have fun…we cannot do that if you're micromanaging every detail of the party, Clove."

Simmering, Clove concedes and makes a truce with Wiress: the allowance of alcohol and one Halloween song…only if she gets to keep the Medieval theme.

* * *

" _I ordered an ice sculpture of a dragon, okay?" Clove snaps when the cameramen keep asking her why she picked such an irrelevant Halloween theme. "It was way over our budget and non-refundable, but it worked with the theme. They don't get it. The Victorian Era was a classier time. Back then, I could have beheaded Wiress for talking back to a Queen and no one would have questioned it."_

* * *

Primrose Everdeen is a literal angel. Dressed in a flowing white dress and sporting a makeshift wire headband in her sandy, long hair, she practically floats as she runs through the door and crashes into her older sister's arms.

"I've missed you, Little Duck!" Katniss says happily as she squeezes her sister tightly against her.

Prim grins as she pulls back. "I'm twenty years old, Katniss. I'm not such a Little Duck anymore. That nickname is outdated."

Her older sister shrugs.

"Force of habit, I guess," she says. And then, pulling Prim back against her for another crushing hug, she adds, "I'm so happy you're here! And on Halloween!"

Primrose beams. The camera zooms out slowly to reveal that Peeta has been watching this all unfold from his desk, a mirrored smile on his own face. He knows more than anyone in the office how much Katniss cares about her sister.

"Well, let me show you around. It's kind of a boring day before the party starts, but…"

"Wait, wait," Prim cuts in, lowering her voice to a whisper. Her voice catches on Katniss' microphone as she asks, "Which one is Peeta?"

"Shh, Prim!"

"I just wanted to put a name to a face! You talk about him enough…"

Katniss steers Prim over to meet the accountants. The camera swivels around to catch Peeta's reaction. He has made it seem like he has gone back to his work, but there is an ever-widening smile on his face that cannot be denied.

* * *

Alma Coin is waiting in Haymitch's office. She has arrived with no warning.

Shocked to see her standing in his personal quarters, Haymitch exclaims a word that has to be censored and throws his bottle of Captain Morgan over his shoulder. Katniss catches it in the nick of time before it can shatter through the open doorway. Coin sighs, eyeing Haymitch's costume with pure disdain.

"Good God, woman. It's Halloween…don't you have any other branches in the area to hop on your broom and go scare the shit out of? You don't even have a costume on, for cryin' out loud."

Alma raises her palms to silence him.

"Haymitch, contrary to what you may think I should be dressed as this year—and contrary to the fact that you think middle-aged people should be dressed up at all—I am not a witch. I come in peace today."

Haymitch crosses his arms over his chest and waggles his eyebrows impishly. "Ah, alright. So, then you're here to address the mounting sexual tension between us? Because that's the only other explanation I can think of."

Coin makes a face of disgust and lets out a soft, strangled noise after she briefly entertains the idea in her head.

"No. Oh, _God_ no, you sarcastic drunk," she cries out with a dismissive laugh. "I'm here on strictly business matters. I will be conducting a 'Women in the Workplace' seminar for the women in the office this morning. And before you object because it's Halloween, _you're_ the one who has been pushing this off for months and agreed to this date."

Haymitch cackles for a good while.

"That's dumb. We don't need the seminar. Obviously, we have women working here. I've got four of them planning my Halloween party, one of them buying me alcohol and bringing her hot younger sister in, one whose gender is actually pretty questionable, she's so old, and Effie Trinket doesn't count."

Alma thinly veils her annoyance with a smile.

"I would ask you to really break down that entire sentence so that _you_ can understand why we _do_ need to have this meeting, but that would require you to actually be sober and tolerant of others, so…"

"Why is it _women_ in the workplace, and not men, huh? Isn't this company, this _country,_ all about equality?"

Alma inhales deeply through her nose, and she closes her eyes as she exhales. This appears to have relaxed her.

"I'm not having this argument with you. Just gather all of the women in the conference room. It should only take about an hour or two, alright? Then you can continue to use them to slave over your precious Halloween party…"

She turns, gathering her items for the presentation, when Haymitch cuts her off.

"Wait! Can I be in on this meeting?"

Coin snorts. "No, you may not."

"Why not?" the manager pouts. Alma sends a glance toward the cameras, shocked that he's actually serious. Haymitch suddenly gets it, minutes later. "Oh, it's because I'm a man in the work place. Because of my pen-"

"Yes, Haymitch. That is why."

"Well, I should be in there, anyway. I'm their boss, so—"

"And I'm _your_ boss!" Alma shouts, her voice suddenly loud and exasperated. Haymitch looks taken aback. "I don't have time for this today, Haymitch. You will bring the girls to the conference room in ten minutes, and neither you nor any man in this office is to enter during that time. Understood?"

Haymitch grumbles a weak 'yes'.

* * *

" _It's bullshit._ Women in the Workplace _…what about the men, huh? What happens to the men? This is typical Coin, pitting us all against each other."_

 _Haymitch suddenly sits up in his desk chair, struck by what he must think is brilliance. The cameras zoom in on the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels to indicate otherwise._

" _You know what, in the spirit of the holiday, I cannot allow this. Halloween is about equality, dammit! The one day a year when I_ could _have dressed as slutty Dora if I wanted to and not be questioned for it."_

 _He stands, leaving his chair empty, and paces out of the room shouting at the top of his lungs about equality._

* * *

"Thank you all for being here today. Katniss, you're alright with taking notes?"

With a quick look to the camera, Katniss uncaps her pen and nods affirmatively. Prim watches with unease from her seat beside her sister, knowing how much Katniss truly dislikes being a secretary and how counteractive to the seminar Coin's request is.

"Great. Now, the purpose of this seminar is to enable women in the work place to be able to realize and achieve their full potential," Coin explains to the women of the office.

Still dressed in her regal gown, Clove raises her velvet-sleeved arm up high.

"Yes, Clove."

"How long is this seminar going to take? I have—I mean, the CAREERS and I have jobs to do for the party."

Coin's eyebrows knit together. "Wouldn't you like to hear how you can better your opportunities as a working woman?"

Clove shakes her head.

"Vice President Coin, with all due respect, I think this is about as good as it's going to get for all of the women you see here," Clove says, without a hint of doubt wavering in her strong voice. Katniss looks to the camera, miffed by the accusation.

"I am head of accounting for a company branch, making a healthy salary all on my own. I had the best scores in my department. I am just fine with my standing here at Panem, and therefore, I should be excused from this seminar."

Alma blinks, a look that reads that she is impressed on her face.

"Very well, Clove. You may be excused."

Clove rises, but before she leaves the room, she sends Wiress a wicked grin from across the table. With the other CAREERS in the seminar all morning, Clove will be the only one able to plan the party.

Wiress and Madge exchange weary looks while Johanna flips Clove off. Effie, who is dressed as a hippie from the seventies, tells Johanna to mind her manners.

Primrose, catching on quickly, looks worriedly into the camera.

Clove leaves the door open when she exits, however, giving a certain excluded regional manager the chance to slip into the room.

Alma sighs, no longer hiding her annoyance.

"What, Haymitch? What could you possibly want now?"

Haymitch feigns innocence as he bounces on the balls of his feet and eyes the cameras with a knowing look. He hides something behind his back.

"Oh, just wanted to…you know, in the name of equality and Halloween and all…invite you to our party this afternoon. It's a Medieval theme, so you should fit right in, even without a costume." He hands her an invitation.

"Oh, uh, thank you," Coin says, taken aback by the gesture.

"You know, since you're a fire breathing dragon who is _clearly_ trying to pit all of my girls against me!"

Haymitch angrily storms the conference room table, wiping everyone's pamphlets that read 'Putting the OR in Work: Alternative Programs for Women's Involvement in the Workplace' off of the table and sending them flying in a cloud of glossy paper around Alma's head.

Heated with rage, the woman stands and roars that Haymitch get out and stay out.

"Fine by me, _Dragon Lady!_ " Haymitch seethes. "But I'm taking my boys with me! Right, boys?"

"Right!" Cato, dressed in full-fledged gladiator armor, stands at attention.

"Right!" Caesar, who has dyed his hair green and put construction paper shapes over his orange dress shirt (which blends right in with his tanned skin) to be the Great Pumpkin, stands as well.

"Right!" Greasy Sae's gravelly voice calls out from the back of the office. She wears a single white sheet with two lop-sided eye holes in what is the saddest ghost costume to ever exist.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and points Sae to the conference room, where the remaining women of the workplace all sit, stunned by the outburst of their bosses.

"Damn, Sae. Not you, you old hag…get in there with the _women_."

Chuckling to herself under the sheet, Sae shuffles to her designated area and sits next to a very disturbed Madge.

"Where exactly do you plan on taking us, boss?" Peeta asks, sending Katniss an amused smirk through the open door of the conference room.

"The place where the _real_ men are," Haymitch says. "Now, follow me!"

As the men all file out of the back door of the office that leads to a new location, Gale moseys in from the annex. He sports a flannel shirt, suspenders, jeans, hunting boots, and a toy axe.

From where he stands, holding the door for his fellow men, Haymitch beams.

"Good look for ya, Lumberjack Boy!" Haymitch cheers, clapping Gale on the back as he trudges through the door.

* * *

 _Regarding his costume, Gale simply shrugs._

" _I figured embracing it was all I could do at this point," he says. "I just wish Haymitch would stop staring at me…it's worse than usual in this outfit."_

* * *

" _As manager, one of my duties is to manage the warehouse. Now, this Boys' Club presents the perfect opportunity for me to go down there for the first time in months, so it's a win-win, really," Haymitch proudly tells the cameras. As he smiles, the corners of his Jack Sparrow mustache turn upward._

* * *

The warehouse whirs with life. Trucks holding dozens of crates of coal back into the open garage, which lets in sunlight and fresh Pennsylvania autumn air. Other lifts and machines carry electric supplies from shelves to the truck beds.

Lively music blasts from an expensive iPod speaker.

All of the warehouse workers, dressed in their white uniforms, work quietly and diligently.

The warehouse is essentially the opposite of the office upstairs.

A tall, dark man with a bald head and a determined scowl looks up when he spots the parade of costumed men descending the warehouse stairs. He mutters something to himself and puts his clipboard down at his side.

"What do you want, Abernathy? We've got a busy day. Lot of coal we have to send out…"

"Welcome to the warehouse!" Haymitch says, stepping right in front of the worker who has just addressed him and speaking directly to the cameras. "Where real men get real work done."

"We're not getting anything done now that you're here," the man behind Haymitch counters.

Spinning around and placing his hands on the man's shoulders—which he has to reach up to do and his costume restricts him from doing casually—Haymitch begins to introduce him as the foreman of the warehouse.

"Boggs is his name, coal is his game!"

Boggs looks at the cameras and simply shakes his head. "That rhyme game is weak, Abernathy."

Darius, perched on the back of one of the trucks, lets out a cackle.

"Over here is Darius, the Super Ginger. He'll be marrying our very own Katniss Everdeen—bless those stubborn fire-crotch children that they're probably going to have."

Scrubbing a hand self-consciously through his unruly red locks, Darius looks down at Haymitch with a look that seems to ask, "Why?"

Haymitch has moved on to a quiet, older looking man with a dark beard. "And this—well, uh, this is…"

An awkward silence fills the place where this worker's name should be. Boggs shakes his head in disappointment.

"Read the name tag if you aren't gonna learn his name, man. This is Homes."

Haymitch's eyebrows shoot upward in clear amusement. "Oh, is this a nickname for him? A little blue-collar street talk?"

"No," the man, Homes says. There is an edge of offense in his voice. "That's my actual name."

By now, the warehouse has ceased its buzzing with productivity and the other workers have joined in to surround Haymitch. The warehouse workers stand on one side of the manager, while the office workers stand directly across from them.

Haymitch observes this tableau and chuckles.

"Look at this. We've got a little _West Side Story_ action going on. Sharks versus Jets. You warehouse guys are the Jets, obviously. Homes, you're Hispanic, right? You look…"

"Italian," Homes corrects him, stony expression unchanged.

Haymitch claps his hands together and laughs nervously.

"Alright, so we all know why we're here today…"

"No, we don't," Darius cuts in. "You all just came down here and distracted us from our work after months of not interacting with us."

"Let's not live up to our stereotypes, Darius," Haymitch says. "That's why we're all here. To fight the stigmas against us men."

Darius tries to protest, but Haymitch cuts him off again.

"You don't want to come off as Soul-Less, Darius. You know, with the hair and all..."

The cameras cut to Peeta, who just shakes his head in shame. Beside him, Cato takes notes.

Continuing to jam his foot in his mouth, Haymitch keeps talking to both groups as if he were conducting a seminar. "I've got an idea. Let's all share our greatest fears. I'll go first."

Pausing for dramatic effect, Haymitch admits his fear. "I fear that I will die alone."

Everyone is uncomfortably silent again. No one knows what to do with this extremely sad admittance from their boss, not even Cato.

Brushing it off, Haymitch says, "Okay, who's next?"

"I'll go," Boggs offers. "My fear is that the last shipment of the month won't get out in time because the warehouse had to stop working."

Haymitch barks out a laugh. "Ah, I get it. I see. Well, this has been extremely informative, but we should go. Boys, did you see what you wanted to see?"

Cato, his gladiator shield whacking Peeta in the stomach as he does so, raises his hand.

"I want to see what happens when you put coal in that huge furnace!" he shouts with the excitement of a child. With the hand that holds his sword, Cato points in the direction of what looks like a giant oven.

Boggs shakes his head. "No, that's too dangerous. You're not seeing that today, or ever."

Haymitch waves dismissively. "Alright, well. We proved our point, men. Now, let's go back upstairs and get our work done before the party…"

"Hold up. Party?" Boggs asks. "You neckties are throwing a Halloween party?"

"Yes! There's going to be music and drinking…ooh, and we all wear costumes! Isn't that just fabulous!?" Caesar answers gaily. Haymitch hisses for him to shut up, but Caesar is too wrapped up in his conversation with Boggs to notice.

Boggs, Homes, and Darius all exchange glances with the warehouse workers before returning to the crowd of office workers.

The foreman gestures toward Beetee, who wears a large box with numbers all over it and holds a red cloth over his velvet jacket.

"What are you supposed to be?"

Beetee licks his lips nervously, and Caesar, oblivious to the implications of the imposed interrogation, jabs the accountant in the side.

"Tell them about your costume!" Caesar says. Turning back to Boggs, he adds, "It's very clever."

Beetee gazes as Haymitch, who has buried his head in his hands and knows he has dug himself too deep of a hole.

"I am…uh, I'm a math-ador. It's supposed to be a, um…a cross between a calculator and a matador."

"And you?" Homes joins in, pointing at Cinna. He wears sunglasses and the leather jacket he came to work in.

"Rockstar," Cinna replies simply.

Boggs reels back on his heels, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.

"Wow, so you guys go all out for this party, huh?"

The question is met with a silence that speaks louder than if any of the men had answered.

"So where's our invitation?"

Haymitch starts to laugh. He is a walking bundle of sweat and nerves.

"Oh, no, you guys don't want to come to our lame party. It's after work…and it's boring, lot of office chit-chat that you wouldn't care about…and I invited Alma so, I mean, it's probably going to be above capacity up there anyway if we invited you guys…"

"Admit you didn't want us ruining your _office_ party, Haymitch," Darius cuts in.

Haymitch blinks and holds up his palms. "No! Of course we want you there…"

"No, you don't. You said it yourself, big guy: let's not live up to our stereotypes. You're being awfully stereotypical as the business class manager who doesn't let his working class employees mingle with his office cronies," Darius spits.

The manager is at loss for words. The warehouse workers have cornered him into an impossible trap.

"Okay, I'm sorry we didn't invite you all to the party," Haymitch finally says with an over-exaggerated sigh. "Gentlemen, we should go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not so fast, _gentlemen_ ," Boggs says, something glinting in his eye. "Now, I think I speak on behalf of all of us in the warehouse when I say we are hurt that we have been excluded from the party. I think it's only fair that you make it up to us."

"How so?" Haymitch asks. "Isn't it enough that we apologized and are letting you get back to work?"

Boggs shakes his head.

"Nah, we'd like a little more than that. What do you say we wager ourselves a little bet? Really get this _West Side Story_ thing going?"

"Are we going to dance?!" Caesar suggests with excitement. He begins to perform the original choreography from the show. Gale has to yank his bright orange shoulder back in their huddle to get him to stop.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a swap. My men and I go upstairs and get the experience of selling coal, and you all can stay down here and package it. If you all can get the orders out by the time of the party, then we'll leave you all alone. If we can sell twenty packages by the end of the day, we get to come to your party."

"Haymitch, think this through," Beetee whispers hastily in the manager's ear as soon as the determined look of being presented with a challenge to his hubris has crossed his face. "Now is not the time to be proud. We aren't very strong, and there are a lot of orders that go out on the last day of the month. Twenty sales is practically nothing. We're not going to…"

"Deal," Haymitch declares, ignoring Beetee entirely and receiving several groans from the workers on his team who know that they have been set up for failure. "Bonus to if we win: you let us throw something into the furnace."

Boggs lets out a low belly chuckle and takes Haymitch's hand, shaking it with one firm jerk.

"Okay, and bonus if _we_ win: we get your big, fancy desk."

There is a collective gasp among the office workers.

"That is mahogany!" Cato shrieks.

Homes smirks. "We know. And we've had our eyes on it ever since _Haymitch_ claimed it, even though it was the _warehouse's_ reward for the best shipment quarter in Panem history. That's why we want it back."

Haymitch scowls. "That desk is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I won't let you take it away."

"Win the bet, then," Boggs says with a shrug. The men in white start to push past the newly crowned warehouse workers. "See you all at five."

* * *

"Alright, let's all take a minute and visualize ourselves in five years. What do we see ourselves doing? Where are we?" Coin probes the lifeless group of women that sits before her.

Madge tosses her intricate Disney princess braids over her shoulders in a display of confidence.

"I can tell you right now that I will not be one of those girls who stays put her whole life. I want to see the world."

Coin smiles. "That's lovely, Madge. How do you plan on getting there?"

Madge lets out a small, almost annoyed laugh.

"I could do it right now if I wanted to. When my father—Undersee 2016!—wins the race for mayor, I'll have enough money to do whatever I want with my sexy lumberjack boyfriend. I'm only working now so that I can, as my daddy says, 'learn the value of a dollar'," she says the last bit with air-quotes and a condescending tone that leaves other women at the table prickling.

"In five years, I guess I'll see myself in prison, then," Johanna says, throwing Madge a hateful stare.

Coin's brow furrows. "Why would you say that, Johanna? What on earth do you plan on doing that will get you into jail?"

"Wringing Undersee's dumbass neck."

* * *

" _The purpose of today is really to weed out anyone with the potential to someday rise to the ranks of the Corporate elite," Coin says with a sigh. She looks back at the conference room, where Madge and Johanna are at each other's throats with petty insults, and shrugs._

" _Maybe I'll find that in the next District I visit."_

* * *

" _I don't really fit in with these women," Katniss admits to the camera. "Sometimes, it feels like I don't fit into this office at all. Maybe that means I can get something out of this seminar."_

* * *

"Katniss, you haven't talked in a while," Coin says, clearly grasping at straws after Effie's claim that she enjoys fashion design gets brutally shut down by the surprising tag team of Wiress and Sae. "Describe your dream for the future."

Looking shocked that she has been presented with a question, Katniss mulls it over for a bit. A smile lights up her face as she begins to answer the question.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I've wanted to live in an authentic log cabin. My dad used to tell me this story about one he found when he went on a hunting trip in the Rocky Mountains once, where this old man lived for years. He used to promise me that he would take me there once we got enough money to head out west for our road trip. It sounded perfect. I could go swimming, or hunting, and just be completely at peace…"

She realizes that she has gotten caught up in her own world. A varying range of judgmental looks comes at her from the other women. Prim looks worked up, a sad smile on her face at the mentioning of their late father.

Backpedaling, Katniss continues, "But, I mean, realistically? I would want to be happy and healthy with a husband that I love—Darius, of course—and maybe do something with music. I minored in it in college, and I've always wanted to write or compose, but I dunno…"

"You're very talented, Katniss," Wiress says. "I've heard you humming your made up tunes by your desk."

"She is," Prim affirms. "Our dad used to write stuff. He'd always say that Katniss had a real ear for music. That whenever she would sing, the birds in the trees would stop to listen."

Coin suddenly leaps to life.

"There's a program for that," she says quickly, pulling out another pamphlet. "The company offers a composition-writing workshop. With the use of social media and technology being so big nowadays, the company is always looking for original jingles for advertisements. This could be really good for you."

Reading over the new material, Katniss' wide grin is unmistakable. She catches herself and shakes her head quickly, folding the pamphlet back up and pushing it away from her.

"Oh, I don't know, Alma…I didn't exactly get to finish earning my college degree. I probably wouldn't be qualified. Besides, it's tough for me to get places because my car is so old, and I can't really take time off with the wedding and my sister's schooling…"

"Katniss," Coin says abruptly, "there's no better time than the present."

* * *

The men were split up into groups of three by Haymitch, with himself being the overseer.

"What do you think the warehouse guys talk about when they're down here?" Cato asks as he hauls extremely heavy crates of coal off of the warehouse floor and into his fellow workers' arms.

From where they stand above him in the truck bed, Peeta and Gale place the boxes in sloppy stacks.

Cato grunts in pain as he puts his entire backside into lifting a particularly large box of coal. He was elected by Peeta as strongest, which is how he managed to get the toughest job.

Peeta pretends to seriously consider the question.

"Well, it couldn't be comic books. Because that's your domain, Cato."

Cato chuckles. "Right. The world of comics requires a particular type of higher level thinking for effective discussion. Even if they were into comics, they couldn't discuss it here. They'd get no work done, obviously!"

"Oh, obviously," Peeta repeats.

Catching on to how Peeta has made these otherwise grueling tasks entertaining for himself, Gale joins in.

"They probably talk about rainbows. Or butterflies."

"Really? I thought they were manly men, like Haymitch said. Anything is possible, I suppose. Do you think it's like a locker-room type situation? Like sports power plays, and talking about what base they got to with their girl the night before. Stuff like that, do you think?"

"It's possible, especially if we're still referring to hooking up in terms of bases in 2015," Peeta says, humoring Cato as he takes a box from him.

"Lumberjack Boy, you're dating Madge, right? What base have you gotten to?"

"Not answering that," Gale grunts at Cato.

* * *

" _Solid third. Under the clothes," Gale answers with bravado, almost immediately after the cameramen ask him._

* * *

"What about you, Mellark? Been with any ladies lately?" Cato asks.

Peeta shakes his head. "Nope. Flying solo…"

"Oh, really? So you and Katniss haven't done anything?" Gale asks, genuinely shocked. This unintentionally turns Peeta into the butt of the joke.

Peeta, red in the face and shocked at the accusation, misses the crate that Cato tries to hand him. The gladiator loses his footing and slips under the truck, coal rolling in every direction on top of him.

"What? No! I would never—she's engaged. She loves Darius."

From his place on the floor, Cato tries to laughs like a hyena.

"You spend all that time flirting with her and nothing?! Oh, shit! You're a _benchwarmer_ , Mellark! Even I get laid regularly, and I've been told that I have crazy eyes!"

Cato starts to laugh again, but having the advantage of standing above him, Peeta is able to drop a fairly large lump of coal right onto Cato's groin.

As their third team member thrashes and moans in pain, Peeta assures Gale that there is nothing going on between him and Katniss again.

"We're good friends. That's all there really is to it."

"But, I mean, you like her though, right?" Gale asks, keeping his voice low in order to signal trust to Peeta.

Swallowing hard, Peeta looks for a moment as though he is going to admit to the man dressed as a lumberjack what he told the cameras months ago.

Instead, Peeta shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets as he steps off of the truck bed.

"Even if I did, it wouldn't matter."

Without another word, he takes over for Cato, hauling a box onto the truck in one fluid motion. Gale looks impressed.

"Damn. You're strong, dude. You lift?"

Peeta shakes his head. "I wrestled in high school and college. And I used to work in my dad's bakery. Had to carry a lot of bags of flour…nothing special."

Gale smiles. "Nah, you're strong. In more ways than one."

"Was that supposed to be as homoerotic as it sounded, Lumbarjack Boy? Is Madge your super-rich Lumberjack beard? Is brave, strong Peeta what really tickles your butterfly-loving fancy?" Cato sneers, still on the ground. This time, Gale drops the coal on his groin.

Unbeknownst to the two men, the cameras move to the other side of the truck, where Darius, who has come downstairs to retrieve his wallet for the vending machine, overhears the entire conversation.

* * *

The seminar is just about wrapping up when the sounds of boisterous whoops and cheers can be heard from outside the conference room.

Since she has locked the door and closed all of the blinds, it comes as a shock to Alma when she finds the warehouse workers stationed at various locations around the office.

Leaping to stand on top of Peeta's desk, Darius triumphantly holds up the phone and receiver.

"Twenty sales! Twenty sales! Twenty sales!" he starts to chant. The other workers join in, forming a mosh pit of sorts in the center of the office.

Coin is shell-shocked.

"What's going on? Where's Haymitch?"

The celebration is cut short and the mosh pit disperses. Suddenly, the warehouse workers are all speechless.

Finally, Boggs speaks up. He explains Haymitch's behavior downstairs, and then elaborates on the bet.

"Please don't fire us," Boggs tacks on at the end of his explanation. "We just made twenty sales. A lot of us have never had an experience working like this before. It felt nice."

As much as she would like to look angry, Coin does not show it. What it all boils down to is that the warehouse workers are not who she is angry at.

"No, none of you are fired. But you should _all_ get ready for this party. I'm going to talk to Haymitch."

* * *

Caesar is lying in a mountain of packaging peanuts, making snow angels. Cinna and Beetee take turns tossing a lump of coal to each other from different locations.

Peeta watches and videographs as Cato tries, and fails miserably, to climb a nearby pole for what appears to be an American Ninja Warrior audition tape.

All of the trucks remain in the garage, filled with coal shipments that have yet to be sent.

Gale, in the middle of arguing with someone on the warehouse phone line, calls out to Haymitch, who fiddles around with the controls on a large lift. It is evident that Haymitch has never operated heavy machinery before.

"Haymitch, stop! That's not safe!"

"Put your axe in it, Lumberjack Boy! I'm fine. I've got to do my part to win the bet."

"You're headed straight for…"

The cameras watch over Coin's shoulder as Haymitch rams the fork into a large storage shelf, tipping it over and causing a domino effect with all of the other shelves.

The warehouse looks as though a bomb has hit it.

"Well, someone will clean that up," Haymitch says after some time of shocked silence has passed.

"The _warehouse_ guys have to clean that up...or worse, we do," Cinna says angrily.

It's only after Haymitch suggests that they retreat before the men from downstairs come back that he notices that Alma has watched the whole thing. Haymitch freezes in place.

Panning around to Coin's face, the following altercation looks as though it is going to be a brutal one.

* * *

Coin decides to take Haymitch out into the parking lot to reprimand him. From the conference room, the cameras get a nice shot out the window of Haymitch watching Coin unravel like a wind-up toy that has just been let loose.

Another camera watches from a parked car.

"From now on, you can't just leave the people from the warehouse out of company-funded events…And you just _took_ that mahogany desk from the warehouse workers? That was their gift…"

"To be fair, you've been in my office and complimented my décor one too many times for you to not have noticed that desk."

"What the hell were you thinking, Haymitch? Do you know how many safety violations this could have resulted in? Do you even have any idea just how… _divided_ your workplace is?"

Haymitch runs his hands through his messy hair and scowls at Coin.

"Maybe if you weren't around here all the time, breathing down my throat and making me feel like I have to pit these people against each other in order to have any sense of control, then it wouldn't be this bad."

Alma suddenly retreats for a moment. There is a look of hurt in her eyes that softens her usually sharp features.

"Haymitch, I…"

But now Haymitch is worked up. He begins to angrily pace around the parking lot, stomping like a raving lunatic.

"Really, _why_ are you here all the time, instead of doing your job at Corporate, where you're supposed to be working? Why District Twelve? Why us?"

"Because I'm getting a divorce, Haymitch."

The manager stops dead in his tracks.

"What?"

"My husband and I are in the process of getting a divorce. It's been difficult for me, because he works close by up in New York. My house, where he's been packing my things, is there. My kids, who hate me, are there. All of the pain and the memories are there. Coming here and dealing with your problems is just easier than accepting mine, alright? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Alma, I'm sorry," Haymitch, suddenly sincere, says.

Coin rolls her eyes and starts for her car. "You've beheaded the dragon. Congratulations, Haymitch. You got what you wanted…"

"No, Alma wait," he says, grabbing her wrist. She whirls around at the contact, ready to smack him. "Come to the party. Enjoy yourself. Yell at me a few more times if you need to."

Coin doesn't say anything. She just smiles.

* * *

" _You know how they say 'Don't judge a book by its cover'? Well, today, I judged a dragon by her scales, and a witch by her broomstick…" Haymitch rambles as he clears his things from the mahogany desk._

" _Turns out you don't know the truth about someone you think you know everything about. I misjudged Alma Coin."_

* * *

The party, fully planned by Clove, goes off without a hitch. Judging by the smug look on her face and the precision of just about every measure of the party, this is something Clove already knows.

The desk, officially awarded back to the warehouse, sits in the middle of the conference room, which has now been decorated to look like a Medieval castle.

* * *

" _Those warehouse brutes better take good care of that desk," Effie Trinket tells the cameras in a private interview. "Because that is mahogany!"_

* * *

Clove waits expectantly by the ice dragon for something to happen among her party guests. But with the harpsichord music, upscale décor, and lack of alcohol, it is clear that the flawless party's only flaw is its lack of entertainment value.

The cameras pan to Wiress, who looks extremely bummed that her brief moment of victory in the meeting from earlier has been squashed by her co-worker.

Johanna saunters over to Clove and pretends to jump out and scare her from behind the ice dragon. Cackling to herself, Johanna pats a sullen Clove on the shoulder.

"Why do you look so miserable? The party turned out perfectly, just like you wanted it to," Johanna asks, popping a doughnut hole into her mouth from the treat table. Clove sighs.

"Yeah, but no one's having any fun," she says, extremely disappointed. "The men from upstairs are far too tired from having spent the day downstairs. The men from downstairs are fish out of water in a party that was designed for the people upstairs. The women are all one pamphlet away from slicing each other's throats open. And my job was to give _everyone_ a fun time, but I failed."

From across the room, Wiress' frown deepens as she listens to the conversation.

She slinks off, and the cameras follow Wiress into Haymitch's office, where the stash of alcohol that had to be removed from the mahogany desk sits in a glistening pile in the corner of the room.

Wiress works quickly, pouring the bottles' contents into her own water bottle.

Catching the cameras, Wiress jumps slightly. She has been caught red-handed.

"Look, I can't stand Clove. She is very difficult to work with. But I feel bad…it's not her fault everyone's already mad at each other. So, I figure that if I dump this into the punch while no one is looking, the vibe of the party will change."

* * *

Wiress' plan works. In about a half hour, everyone in the room with a red cup in their hands has succumbed to the loosening effect of alcohol.

The party is given a sense of recharge. Clove now wears a gigantic smile as she glides over to Wiress and Beetee over by the window.

"Guess my party _was_ a hit afterall, Wiress…even without your dumb little suggestions."

Before Wiress, red cup in hand, can object or explain that she was in fact the one to turn the party around, Clove has moved on to fish for compliments from the other members of the office.

Wiress glowers as the cameras zoom in closely on her face.

* * *

" _No good deed goes unpunished," Wiress sighs. She bows her head, and her entire robot costume makes the sound of powering off._

* * *

Primrose is the life of the party. She strikes up conversation with even the oddest of characters. She dances with Greasy Sae, humors all of Caesar's incessant questions, and even gets Cinna to take his sunglasses off and look someone in the eye.

"That sister of yours is a miracle worker, Everdeen," Peeta tells her as he creeps up behind Katniss, who stands and quietly observes the party with a red cup at hand.

She beams as she turns around.

"I'm really glad she's here."

"I bet. It's easy to see why you love her so much. Hey, how was the seminar?"

Katniss rolls her eyes, slightly buzzed from the secret alcohol in her cup.

"Alright. I think I'm contractually obligated to vote for Douglas Undersee in the next mayoral election now. How was the warehouse?"

"Oh, it was _exactly_ how you think the warehouse was. Cato's auditioning for _American Ninja Warrior,_ by the way—totally unbiased opinion here, but he's a shoo-in for a winner."

She laughs out loud at the thought of it. She stops, as if she is debating saying something to him. Katniss then nervously turns to face Peeta.

"Hey, but something kind of cool happened," she starts, tugging at her turtleneck collar.

"I like the sound of 'kind of cool'. Let's hear it."

"Well, it's this music writing internship. For advertising. Coin made it seem really great, and…"

Peeta grins dopily, which makes Katniss stop and laugh.

"What are you smiling at, you dork? I haven't even finished explaining it yet."

"Don't have to," he says with a knowing shrug. "You've got the talent for it. It's about time you got to do something that you want to do."

"So…you think I should go for it?"

Peeta shakes his head. A smile slowly finds its way to his lips.

"I _know_ you should."

She grins to herself and blushes as she fiddles with the end of her braid.

"Thanks."

* * *

The cameras find Katniss a few minutes later. She speaks to Darius, who has the pamphlet for the internship program clutched in his hands and is shaking his head violently. He sways as he stands, clearly one of the drunkest ones at the party.

'Prim is behind me on this! It's time I do something that I want to do!' the cameras watch Katniss mouth passionately.

'Who told you that bull?' Darius says.

'A friend,' Katniss mouths back, backing off slightly.

'Was that friend _Mellark_?' Darius' lips punch the last word so that it's almost audible to the cameras.

Katniss' lips stop moving.

He rolls his eyes, shoves the pamphlet back at Katniss, and storms back into the party. She watches him go before sadly tossing the program in the trash.

* * *

" _No, you know…I thought about it. The program just really wasn't for me. At my age, and with all the things going on in my life…there's no guarantee that it would lead to anything, anyway," Katniss tells the cameras. The words sound like they come from Darius rather than from her._

 _She laughs pitifully and shakes her head._

" _It was all just a silly dream. The cabin in the woods…I mean, my dad was killed before we could ever take that road trip, so I don't even know if the story he used to tell me was real or not. It's impractical to want that now, though. They probably don't even have log cabins in Allentown. It was just a pipe dream from my childhood. I'll never…"_

 _The tears in her eyes have spilled over at this point. Before she can get too worked up on camera, Katniss leaves the private interview._

* * *

"You must be the infamous Peeta Mellark," the angel of the party says as she comes around from the other side of the desk. She holds out her dainty hand. "I'm Prim."

Peeta takes the young girl's hand and beams. "Oh, I know an Everdeen when I see one. It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise. Katniss has told me so much about you…"

"Prim!" Katniss gasps as she scuttles up to her sister's side and throws her arm tightly around Prim's shoulders. "There you are!"

Prim shoots Peeta an all-knowing look that hints at Katniss saving her from saying something she now cannot disclose to him. Katniss shoots Prim a look that warns her to watch it. Peeta shoots the cameras a look of utter confusion.

"I see you two have met. What were you talking about?"

"Oh, uh…we were…" Peeta is suddenly flustered, looking for a logical segue that won't anger Katniss. Prim jumps to his aid.

"I was just telling Peeta about my studies at University of Pittsburgh, since he's a Penn State man," she says with a wink. Peeta looks slightly stunned that she knew this personal fact about him without him having told her.

Katniss' eyes widen in mock horror, her hand dramatically flying to her chest. "Oh, wow. I forgot that you two were supposed to be sworn mortal enemies."

Peeta tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at Prim, cocking a smirk as he does so.

"Two words, Everdeen: We. Are."

Prim pretends to faint in her sister's arms, and the three of them erupt in laughter.

"So, Prim, I hear you got to sit in on the Women in the Workplace seminar today," Peeta continues through stitches of laughter.

Prim nods. "It was…something. Made me dread medical school a little more, to be honest."

"Shut up," Katniss says playfully. "You'll be fine."

" _Maybe_ I would be more excited about it if a certain _someone_ were actually doing that advertising internship up in New York," Prim says, her stare volleying between Peeta and Katniss to gage each of their reactions to what she says form where she stands in the middle of them.

Peeta blinks in confusion before he stares at Katniss in disbelief.

"You're not going?"

Katniss immediately stares at the floor.

"Um, no."

"Why not? You were so excited about it an hour ago."

"There are lots of little reasons why it wouldn't work, Peeta…"

Katniss does not have time to elaborate any further.

The conversation is cut short when someone angrily shouts from the conference room doorway, "MELLARK."

The room falls silent, and all eyes are on Darius. His hair sticks out in dozens of directions, his breath is labored, and his eyes are wild, feral.

Peeta stiffens. "Yeah?"

Without another word, Darius charges at where Peeta and Prim stand like a raging bull. Peeta pushes Prim out of the way in the nick of time, for as soon as Prim lands in Katniss' arms, Darius' hands shove Peeta forcefully back onto the desk. He struggles under Darius' full weight, pinned down the tall, thin redhead.

But, being a wrestler with the absurd strength that Gale pointed out earlier, Peeta manages to escape, rolling out of the way before Darius can inflict any more damage on him.

Darius' fist rears back. He starts to charge at Peeta again.

"Darius, stop!" Katniss shouts.

Before he can deliver the blow to Peeta's jaw, however, someone else punches the gangly ginger directly in the nose and sends him plummeting to the ground.

Several people gasp. Katniss screams and hugs Prim protectively close to her.

Cato shakes out his hand while Gale grabs Darius' wrists and wrenches them behind his back.

"What the hell, Haymitch? Your boys are ganging up on mine!" Boggs cries.

But Haymitch isn't watching Boggs. He is watching where Darius lies on the floor. The impact of Darius' fall, right in front of the punch bowl, causes the ice sculpture dragon to teeter. Everyone spectates in muted horror as the momentum of the dragon causes it to fall forward and sends its sharpened horns right into the mahogany wood of the desk.

Effie bites her knuckles to keep from crying out at the destroyed wood.

"That's enough!" Coin bellows, finally regaining control of the situation due to the dragon diverting everyone's attention. "There will be no more punches thrown on Panem's grounds!"

"That man's nose is stronger than it looks," Cato mutters to himself, hissing in pain as he flexes his fingers.

"Looks like we got that _West Side Story_ parallel after all," Beetee observes. Several warehouse workers hear this and start to advance on Cato for harming one of their pack.

Effie groans at the thought of having to fill out multiple HR reports on this mess as she leads Cato out of the way before he tries to punch anyone else.

Despite the blood that pours from his nose, Darius remains furious. But given Coin's threat, he finally uses his words rather than his fists.

"You better mind your own damn business, Mellark, and stop messing with _my_ fiancée!"

"What are you talking about?" Peeta asks, pushing himself up from the desk.

Gale struggles, but he manages to hold back Darius before he can advance on Peeta again.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. I've heard all the rumors…I've just chosen to ignore them, because I thought, 'You know, Mellark's a good guy. He would never try to break up an engagement'. Until today, that is, when I heard you and your ridiculous _locker room_ talk with your two henchmen over here. You're trying to make me look like the bad guy, and you're trying to take Katniss away from me!"

Cato lifts one of his throbbing fingers.

"I would just like to point out that I was not necessarily defending Peeta. It was just my natural survivor's instinct kicking in. Had you been advancing on anyone else in this office, I would have also punched you in your unusually strong nose, Darius. In all likelihood, I wouldn't be Peeta's henchman. He's too stocky, and I'm too tall…the proportions just wouldn't work."

"Shut up, Cato," Haymitch, Darius, and Peeta all say simultaneously.

"Darius, I wasn't trying to _take_ her from anyone," Peeta says. "Katniss and I are friends."

"Ha. _Friends_ ," Clove mutters. Darius' eyes go wild once more.

Cinna, who has just returned from the bathroom and missed all of the action, freezes at the door.

"What the—"

"There's been an altercation between Mister Lavins, the unfriendly leprechaun from the warehouse, and our very own Peeta Mellark from District Twelve. It appears as though the topic of discussion is Miss Everdeen, our receptionist," Caesar fills him in with commentary on the spectacle of this fight as if he were a sportscaster.

"Oh."

Cinna walks right through the line of fire and starts eating off of the snack table as if none of this is happening.

"I don't care if you're her friend, or the one she yammers on to all the time. You have _no right_ to tell her what she can and cannot do," Darius growls at Peeta. "What did you think you were getting at by telling her to do that program, huh?"

Peeta chooses to direct his stare at Katniss now. The look in his eyes is a mixture of hurt and betrayal.

"That's why you changed your mind. He told you that you couldn't go, didn't he?" Peeta asks her, his voice trembling at just above a whisper.

The receptionist nervously tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks away.

"Peeta, not in front of everybody…"

The salesman isn't hearing it. He's been pushed around by her and her fiancé for far too long to idly stand by any longer.

"No, answer me. Is this really what you want to do, or are you just doing what he says?"

Katniss' pupils dilate quickly as she studies Peeta's expression and tries to read it, eventually coming up short.

Suddenly, her cheeks flush. Her neck turns bright red. Her eyes harden in anger of her own. The famous fire that Haymitch says she's got is burning brightly.

"Darius is right, you know. Where do you get off acting like you have a say in my life? In any of my choices?"

Peeta scrubs his hands through his messy blonde hair in frustration.

"I'm sorry for meddling. I really am. But…I mean…" he starts to let his thought trail off, as if he knows that what he wants to say will only make matters worse. He glances around the room, where every pair of eyes has fallen on him. Finally, he looks right into the camera and exhales.

He decides to go through with what he wanted to say.

"You have to take a chance on something sometime, Katniss. You can't just let yourself be a pawn in everyone's games and let them…change you into something you're not. Do you really want to be a receptionist your whole life?"

Katniss then reaches forward and finishes the job her fiancé started by shoving Peeta toward the wall. He stumbles backward, over a poorly placed flower pot, and hits the desk. Another shard of ice from the dragon comes plummeting down into the desk, much to the horror of Clove Sevina.

"The mahogany," Effie whimpers, her lip quaking.

"Yeah, you can definitely keep that desk now, Haymitch," Boggs says slowly. "Thing's got bad juju written all over it."

"Oh, go back to the warehouse, Boggs," Haymitch mutters bitterly. Coin just downs the rest of her drink, too shocked and exhausted by this branch to even bother saying anything.

The cameras return to Katniss. She is slowly advancing toward Peeta, who holds his hand to his shell-shocked face as if she has really punched him.

"I'm fine with my choices," Katniss says, her voice low and barely passing with conviction. " _All_ of them."

She grabs her drunk-of-his-ass fiancé from Gale and tells him and Prim to gather their things.

Wiress smirks and tips her cup toward Clove. "Some party you've thrown us, Clove. Really…what was the word you used this morning? Oh yeah, _classy_."

The smaller girl, fed up by the mockery that has been made out of her party, takes a plastic knife from the basket of utensils and jams it in the box that encases Wiress' head. She follows this act of violence by knocking the cup, filled with alcohol, all over Wiress' frontside. The mixed drink that spills onto her robot chest makes the suit spark and sputter.

"I know you snuck alcohol in the punch, you crazy nut," Clove says before storming out of the room.

Everyone remains silent.

"Boo!" a ghost shouts from where she has waited the entire time under the treat table to scare the party-goers. Everyone, nervy from the action, either jumps or screams at Sae's ill-timed Halloween prank.

* * *

" _If there's anything today taught these people, it is that separating ourselves is not the answer," Haymitch tells the camera as he re-organizes his desk. "The second you turn you turn your back on someone could be the second you lose them."_

* * *

"Hey, Boss," Boggs greets Haymitch at his doorway. From where she sits at a chair by the desk, Coin looks up and Boggs nods her way. "Lady Boss."

"Boggs," the manager greets his foreman cordially, a coldness in his tone. Boggs shuffles his feet around for a moment before sighing.

"I'm sorry about what happened today. It wasn't right for me to question your authority and put you in that place. For some unknown reason, you're the boss. I have to respect that, no matter how much you bother me."

Haymitch shrugs. "I must not have been that good of a boss, because I forgot about some of the most important people I have around. I'm sorry I made you boys feel unimportant."

A small smile presses past Boggs' lips.

"I never said you were a good boss."

"But that's what you're saying subtextually, Boggs."

The foreman makes a sound of objection, but a look from Coin gets him to relent.

"Truce?"

Haymitch nods. "Truce. And consider this your invitation to every party upstairs going forward."

"Appreciate it, Boss. I'll try to keep the bar fighting to a minimum next time. But as for your end of the bargain, it's probably for the best if none of your guys come downstairs for a while…you guys left a pretty big mess."

"Yeah…"

"Like, huge mess. That we're going to have to spend weeks cleaning up. Plus the October shipments are going to go out late. You also broke our lift. We're back down to zero days without any safety violations, too. It's a big mess."

"Okay, Boggs. I get it. Go home. Happy Halloween."

Fuming in annoyance, the foreman leaves, looking as though he longs for vengeance.

* * *

" _A company needs men, and women, and warehouse workers, and office workers…you need a little bit of everything. It isn't a one man job," Haymitch continues, gesturing to himself as that one man. "A king is nothing without his royal subjects. Hell, a king even needs his fire breathing dragon to keep his castle running."_

* * *

"Well, Haymitch, as usual, your office did not fail to at least keep me on my toes today. However, Corporate can wait until Monday to hear about and handle all of the incidents," Coin says tiredly as Haymitch walks her out to her car. A chilling October breeze zooms past them, sending her gray hair in every direction.

Haymitch laughs and catches a loose strand of hair that has fallen out of place before moving back to where it frames her face.

"I'm glad you came today, Alma," he says tenderly, never breaking eye contact. Alma freezes, as if she waits for the biting joke that would usually follow a comment like that from Haymitch.

It never comes.

"Well, then…you're welcome. Thank you for…" she breathes heavily, "Thank you for having me. It was nice to feel wanted for the first time in, well, a while. Thank you, Haymitch."

Another gust of wind rustles her hair.

Overcome by the moment, and the alcohol, Haymitch closes the gap between them and kisses her deeply. Coin's eyes widen in alarm for a moment, but she does not push him off of her.

It is Haymitch's turn to look surprised when she starts to kiss him back.

* * *

" _Guess this means I have a girlfriend now," Haymitch says, shrugging excitedly while Coin's taillights pull out of the shot. "She told me not to tell anyone about that…but you all caught that on tape, right? Can I get a copy of that?"_

* * *

"How is your hand?" Clove asks, kneeling beside where Cato sits with his hand in the freezer drawer at the bottom of the fridge in the break room.

Cato shrugs.

"I really should have gone for the uppercut instead of a jab like that," he says. "Rookie mistake."

The small woman yanks his hand from the ice tray, despite Cato's howls of pained protest. She examines his hand, which has sprouted patches of black and blue markings, for a short while before her hard eyes find his.

"It looks broken, Cato."

The salesman looks perplexed. "Impossible. I don't break bones unless they're the bones of my enemies."

Clove rolls her eyes. "Being a martial arts master doesn't make you immune to breaking bones. I'll drive you to the hospital."

Cato blinks slowly.

"You hate driving at night, though. I thought driving at night on holidays was for drunkards and foolish daredevils?"

"It is, and I was not looking forward to driving home in that traffic alone, anyway," Clove says. They work together to lift Cato from the ground, a comical dance of her short figure trying to lift his giant frame on her own while his long limbs go limp with resistance.

"But that doesn't matter right now. Come on."

As they start to leave the room, the arm with his injured hand draped over her slim shoulders, Clove smiles at him.

"I thought what you did today was very brave, Cato."

* * *

" _I've been training in all types of fighting ever since I was a boy. Karate, Kung Fu, Jujitsu, Taekwondo, boxing, stage combat, kick-boxing, fencing, a women's self-defense class...I even took a class at the local Gymboree, so I could get in the heads of the future predators of this world before they can grow up and outsmart me. I was the best student in that class," Cato says proudly as he lists off all of his qualifications as a 'fighter' and clearly avoiding the actual question he has been asked._

 _Once again, Cressida asks why he felt compelled to punch Darius during the party when he was attacking his arch nemesis._

" _I would have done it for anyone. I didn't do it for Peeta. Let's just get that straight, alright? I did it because that Darius guy is a prick. There are people with very frail bones in that office who needed protection, and with my skillset, I had to show those people that they were in safe hands."_

 _One of the cameramen asks if he is referring to Clove._

 _Cato laughs nervously and averts his eyes._

" _No, she's perfectly capable of handling herself. I mean, did you_ see _that ice dragon? Classiest Halloween party I have ever been to…it was amazing. Until I punched a man in the face and broke my hand, that is."_

* * *

"You know, if we hustle home, we can probably catch the tail end of _Halloweentown_."

"Yeah," Prim says, plastering on a smile and fighting off her glum countenance when her sister suggests the movie. "That'll be a lot of fun. Is Darius going to be there?"

"He texted me earlier and told me that he's going to the Hob with the warehouse guys tonight, so it's just us, Little Duck," Katniss smiles sadly and she readjusts the halo that has fallen askew on Prim's head. "I can braid your hair, and we can eat a bunch of junk food."

"I'd like that."

The phone at reception rings just as Katniss pulls her arm through her coat sleeve. Prim sighs quietly as she watches the way her sister's eyes peel with dread over to the blaring contraption.

Stealing a glance over at where Peeta hasn't looked up from his desk once since their argument, Katniss eyes the camera sadly before picking up the phone.

"Panem Electric, this is Katniss…No, he's actually stepped out for a minute...Yes, hold please. I'll connect you with his machine so you can leave a message."

She transfers the call over to Haymitch's answering machine and hangs up her receiver. Placing her hand on her sister's back to guide her out of the office, Katniss looks longingly at Peeta, willing him to look up.

He does not.

For the first time in years, there are no friendly goodbyes exchanged at the reception desk before Katniss retires for the night.

It's only after the door can be heard clicking shut that Peeta looks up and stares desperately at the abandoned reception desk.

* * *

The cameras follow the sisters to the parking lot, where Primrose Everdeen is surprisingly vocal.

"He was right, you know. You can't be a receptionist forever, Katniss…"

"I can't talk about this anymore tonight, okay? I'm not going anywhere. That's it, end of story. What other choice do I have, Prim?" Katniss groans.

"You can take the internship!"

"And stop paying for you to go to nursing school? And not have enough money to afford my wedding?"

"Who cares! We've gotten through hard times before. We can do it again."

Katniss rolls her eyes in frustration. "You don't understand how _complicated_ it is, Primrose."

"I may not, but I understand completely how much my sister gave up for me years ago. You can finally do what Daddy always wanted you to do, Katniss. You can write music…"

Tears begin to pour from Katniss' molten gray eyes. "That was _his_ dream. He's been dead for over three years, Prim. He worked in the mines because he knew that a career banging on a piano and singing wasn't going to put dinner on the table. It was just a dream, Prim. For him and for me…just a stupid…"

Prim's blue eyes harden to match her sister's in how much fury they harbor.

"You'll never know unless you try, Katniss! But that's never going to happen if you let your fiancé keep you behind that desk. There's no better time than the present to _go for what you want_!"

Katniss' irises flash.

"This isn't about the internship anymore, is it?"

Prim shrinks back and stares down at her white ballet flats.

"Prim…"

Behind them, happily shouting 'Trick or Treat', children dressed as all kinds of monsters inhabit the dimly lit streets.

But the angel standing among the monsters holds up her hands.

"Hear me out, alright? When Dad died, you weren't happy. But unlike Mom, you pretended to be. You threw yourself into hunting for work and planning your wedding and told yourself that you had moved on, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were just not letting yourself grieve. Then you got this job, and you started to sing in the shower again. You smiled again. You wore Dad's jacket again. I knew it couldn't be answering phones or working for that idiot boss of yours all day that made you so happy, but I was willing to let it go when you claimed that you loved your job because you were finally yourself again."

The cameras cut to watch Katniss, who looks shocked at her sister's confession.

"And then _he_ bought us that dinner at the Lakewood. The second you told me what his name was, I knew that _he_ was the reason why you were so happy again."

Katniss does not refute any of what Prim says. Instead, she bites her lip and wipes the mess of surprise tears and cat make-up from her face.

"Do you think I'm making the right choice?" she asks meekly. She catches herself quickly when she spots the cameras. "About the internship, I mean."

Prim shrugs.

"I think you know what you want. You always have. It's just a matter of whether or not you're going to let yourself have it."

The Everdeen sisters stand in silence for a long while.

"Come on, let's go. It's cold and I found a great recipe for pumpkin-spiced hot cocoa that we can make while you braid my hair and we watch classic Disney channel," Prim says perkily, tugging her sister away from the office.

Smiling as she realizes that her sister is granting her pardon for the argument and her indecisiveness, Katniss exaggerates a groan as she unlocks her car. "Why is literally everything pumpkin-spiced now? Ugh. You're into that?"

"I'm an urban college girl, Katniss. Of course I am."

* * *

 _Peeta's cheeks are still tinged bright red when he is brought in for the private interview to comment on what happened at the party._

" _I deserved to hear all of that, no matter how much it sucked. They're right. It's her life, and it's her choice," Peeta sadly confesses to the cameras._

 _Cressida, trying to brighten his spirits, tells Peeta that when the documentary airs, every girl in the country will want him meddling in their lives. She also says that this moment will break a lot of hearts._

 _Peeta grants Cressida a sympathy chuckle. His demeanor darkens again._

" _Well," he says, "I hope it looks way less painful than it feels."  
_

* * *

"Prime real estate you've got there, Mellark."

From where he sits on the parking lot curb outside of the office, Peeta's laugh is mirthless.

"You're never going to scare kids off of your property if you're still here, Haymitch."

"I didn't buy any candy this year, anyway," Haymitch grunts as he joins Peeta on the ground. "Economy's bad, you know. Made one of those signs that say, 'Sorry, I'm on vacation. Come back next week and I'll be the guy that gives out dental floss', too."

"You had enough to afford that ridiculous get-up, though," Peeta observes, commenting on the fact that Haymitch is still dressed as 'Sensual Pirate Johnny Depp'.

Haymitch shrugs. "Slutty Dora was more expensive, if you can believe it."

"Wow. There goes my costume idea for next year, then."

"We both know you sure as hell won't dress up _again_ next year, Mellark."

They fall into silence. Peeta stares up at the cloudy nighttime sky and Haymitch kicks at the gravel under his pirate boots.

"So, do you wanna talk about it?"

"I'd rather not talk about my personal life with you, regardless of how exploited it is, thanks."

Surprisingly, Haymitch accepts this with very little argument. It seems as though he is finally okay with being left out of someone's business. Most likely because he is already in the know of this particular business.

But sitting and not gossiping at all does not fare well with the manager who always seems to have to insert himself into drama. Haymitch shifts and readjusts himself on the curb. It is clear that he is searching for something witty or clever to deliver what he so badly wants to say.

He ends up just blurting it out.

"I made out with Alma tonight. First base."

Peeta rears back, eyes widening. "So _Haymitch Abernathy_ got to first base tonight? Cato Hadley told me that he gets laid regularly today, too. And the moon isn't even full. Wow, that's…congratulations. Happy Halloween to us all."

Haymitch does not pick up on Peeta's sarcasm, however, and he takes this as a genuine compliment.

"I know, right? She's hot, once you get her all riled up. Soft lips, uses a lot of tongue. She's got two kids, though, so who knows what _that_ situation is like. You know, the situation down south. But I won't have to worry about rounding that base for a few more dates, so…"

"Alright, that's more than enough of what I wanted to hear about Alma Coin sexually," Peeta cuts in.

Peeta turns away and blinks back what appear to be tears in his red-rimmed eyes. Watching all of this, Haymitch clears his throat and turns to face his employee.

"You _really_ like her, don't you, boy?"

Peeta laughs again, clasping his hands together in his lap and shaking his bowed head. When he finally looks up, all of the tears have vanished. All that remains is his usual self-deprecating smile.

"No, I love her," Peeta confesses, microphone picking up every tremor in his voice. He breathes as if a weight has been lifted from him. The cameras have captured the first moment he has admitted this aloud.

Haymitch purses his lips and studies the younger man before his expression hardens.

Without a trace of malice or joking in his stern voice, Haymitch looks at Peeta and says, "Then don't give up. You hear me, kid? Never, ever give up."

Peeta takes in the advice very seriously, as if it has never dawned on him that he may have a fighting chance until Haymitch had to be the one to tell him, and breathes out a smile.

"Huh," he says, the smile widening.

Together, the two men look up at the moon. Peeta takes it as his cue to go when Haymitch starts howling at it.

* * *

Boggs brings all of the office men down to the warehouse a week later. Homes waits in the newly repaired lift with a large chunk of wood on it.

They all count down together as the furnace doors creak open and the wood is swallowed by flames. Cheers go up from both the upstairs and downstairs men.

"That. Was. AWESOME!" Haymitch whoops, slapping Boggs on the back. "The thing you threw in there lit up like a match!"

"Haha, yes it did, my man," Boggs says with a deep belly laugh. "Now, there's officially no hard feelings."

Disrupting the celebration, Effie storms in at the top of the warehouse stairs. She is huffing and puffing and yelling that the 'madness' stop.

"Shut up, Trinket. No girls allowed. You, specifically, just aren't allowed ever," Haymitch spits.

Effie's eyebrows arch and her face contorts comically.

"Do you know what those men just burned, Haymitch? Have you been in your office yet today?"

The realization slowly dawns on everyone, save Haymitch, who hasn't quite figured out what she means yet. The warehouse workers slowly slink out of the garage to avoid his reaction once they find out what was just incinerated.

Finally, it hits him like a ton of bricks.

"That was mahogany!" Haymitch gasps.

* * *

 **A/N: Here's the next installment! Long, I know, but I've planned for about 5 'epidodes' per year of the documentary, so I've had to do a lot of splicing and mashing together of all of the references. Halloween episodes of _The Office_ have always been some of my favorites, and getting to play with THG characters in this world was a lot of fun. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your reactions to what went down! Thank you to everyone that has read, reviewed, followed, or favorited this fic. Please keep it up! It means so much to me to have your feedback!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	4. Year One: The Victors

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything. Both** _ **The Hunger Games**_ **and** _ **The Office (US)**_ **belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 1, Episode 4: The Victors**

"It's finally here! The best day of the year is here!" Haymitch cheers, pumping his fists while he runs through the front doors of the office as if he were finishing the last leg of a marathon.

The cameras follow him. He practically skips to the elevator.

"What is so special about today, you may ask? Well, tonight is the night of 'The Victors', Panem's annual awards night. It's kind of a huge deal around here. Everyone in the branch's favorite night. We all get dressed up, head out to the local Parachute Grill—they drop your food to you from _parachutes_!—and just enjoy a night of comedy."

When they reach his office, Haymitch excitedly rips open his briefcase and plops a plastic trophy of a business man on his desk.

"I've got a good feeling about the Victors this year."

* * *

After the events that took place on Halloween night, the crew decided that they had enough footage for a few months. They also agreed that it would be best to give everyone in the office some space and privacy.

It is now the end of February. All of the tensions from Halloween have seemed to have sorted themselves out and dissipated, most noticeably between Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen.

Early into the day, the cameras find Peeta back at Katniss' desk, asking her if she is excited for the Victors. Katniss rolls her eyes and starts giggling.

* * *

" _No, we're good," Katniss assures the cameras. Her hair hangs loosely over her shoulders today, and some of it falls in her eyes as she speaks. "We actually didn't talk about what happened on Halloween. I'm not very good at communicating my feelings, so I was worried about what Peeta would think, but he just came back after the weekend and acted like nothing happened, so I think he gets it. I'm just glad to have my best friend back."_

* * *

Haymitch decides to give the cameras a tour of past Victors winners.

"Peeta _quack quack_ —get it, like the duck?"

Peeta looks up from his desk at the camera. "Yes, you replaced my last name with the sounds of a _mallard_ duck. Which isn't what kids on the elementary school playground used to do to me at all."

"Why don't you show off some of your Victors?"

"Oh, I can't. I keep them hidden," Peeta says quickly. Catching the way his boss reels at the statement, he adds, "You know, to prevent me from getting too cocky."

"Good man, good man."

"Mine are at home in a bulletproof display case. It is above my television. That way, America knows who _really_ has got talent," Cato chimes in from his desk, grinning at his own joke. Haymitch makes a noise of disgust.

"Weirdo."

Cato grumbles to himself and resumes his work.

"Johanna-anna bo-banana, Johanna-fan-a-fo fanna, fe-fi-mo-Johanna, Jo—"

"Oh, for the love of God, make that stop!" Johanna cries out, ripping her Bluetooth out of her ear. "What do you want, Haymitch?"

The boss, unfazed by how poorly he had just executed the famous name rhyme on his employee, grins as he comes behind her chair, as if to display her.

"Johanna Mason is one of our Victors all-stars. Tell them what you've won in the past, Jo-Jo Binx!"

* * *

" _I'm a huge fan of both award ceremonies and Comedy Central. I own a DVD of the Bieber roast. Nothing gets me going like pointless validation for people who don't need it. But the Victors is nothing like any of what Haymitch probably described to you. It's more like watching your five-year-old son try and re-enact one of those roasts. It's not funny, but they think it's hysterical, and you have to laugh along because that five-year-old is the one who is going to hand you your paycheck," Johanna tells the cameras privately._

" _I won Most Likely to Become an Axe Murderer for about three years before I won Probably Looks Best Naked. So, as you can see, it's a pretty tasteful bunch of awards."_

* * *

" _How would I describe the Victors?" Beetee Latier reiterates the question as he pinches the rim of his nose. He pauses, deep in what looks like very concerned thought._

" _Perhaps the best direct comparison would be like a bloodbath. Everyone goes into what will undoubtedly be painful and gets slaughtered until Haymitch is the last person standing."_

* * *

"It's going to be open bar again this year, right, Haymitch? Because that was great last year, how you just got Parachute to waive their overserving policy for us non-designated drivers," Johanna says.

Haymitch nods. "If the designated drivers will agree to drive again, I think I can make it happen. I'll talk to my… _connections_ up at Corporate."

"You mean Alma? 'Cause you're boffing her?" Cato asks. He receives a smack on the back of the head from Haymitch.

"Shut up, turd. But, yeah. I mean Alma"

* * *

" _Oh, yeah…that's very much still alive. Still hot, still new and dangerous and exciting," Haymitch nods enthusiastically as he swivels in his desk chair when the crew asks if he and Coin were still, as he claimed, an item._

" _We haven't, you know, actually done anything else besides that kiss, but the sexual tension is…you could cut it with a knife. But it's kind of like a Romeo and Juliet type situation. Our love is a secret, because Coin doesn't want the people in New York knowing and I don't want the people in Allentown telling her that they know. If I knew how to work Facebook, my relationship status would easily be 'Fifty Shades of Gray'—my lady's favorite color_ and _how ambiguous things are. But I think it's going well!"_

* * *

"Also, Haymitch, at what point should I arrive at Parachute to set up my equipment?" Caesar asks as he trots up with where Haymitch stands in the center of the office.

Cato whirls around in his seat, blue eyes wide with horror.

"What are you talking about, Flickerman?"

Caesar grins, oblivious, and says, "Why, Haymitch has agreed to let me co-host for the evening."

Haymitch raises a warning finger. "I said you could be Assistant _to_ the Host, Caesar. That's very different from co-host, so don't go and get yourself confused, there. That's my job as Master of Ceremonies."

Cato looks as though he has been publically scorned by what has been said.

"Haymitch, I've _always_ been Assistant Host—"

"Assistant _to_ the Host."

"Whatever—it's always been my job on Victors night…" Cato whines.

"Yeah, well after last year's incident where you threatened to snap the manager's neck for 'incompetence in serving speed', you're lucky Parachute is even letting us back in to the restaurant. It's in everyone's best interest if you're not even behind the scenes this year…"

"So I have to just _watch_ and _suffer_ because of that idiot manager and his tortoise servers?"

"You got the suffer part right," Peeta says.

"Put a sock in it, Gingerbread Man."

"Enough! Okay, that's enough, Cato. Caesar is going to be my right-hand man this year, alright? Don't be a sore loser…that's not what the Victors are about," Haymitch chides. He glances deviously at the camera when he says, "Because everyone's a winner at the Victors."

* * *

" _This is everyone's favorite day here, I think, because it gives these people something to root for," Haymitch now has about twelve Victors on display at his desk._

" _That something is themselves. Not a lot of these guys would get awarded for much else. I mean, look at Sae, or Caesar, or Katniss…they wouldn't win anything in the real world—especially not Greasy Sae—but at the Victors, they get the chance to go home and tell their neighbor or their parents, 'Hey, I won an award at my job'. It's like Stitch says: 'Nobody gets forgotten in my Ohana'. Plus, it's no holds barred. Uncut, unlimited comedy. Some of my best nicknames have come from this night."_

* * *

" _I come from a long line of men who are not used to losing," Cato says, broiling with untamed anger. "I refuse to back down without a fight. Which is exactly what I said to a Dunkin' Donuts worker who tried to tell me that the donuts with heart-shaped sprinkles were only a 'seasonal treat' for 'Valentine's Day', so she 'couldn't make one for me' since the 'seasonal window' was 'closed'…I got my donut, and I'll get my job back."_

* * *

A small television and a pile of DVDs have been set up in the conference room. Watching one of Haymitch's infamous routines when the cameras enter—the one on the screen being of Haymitch cackling while holding Clove's Victor just high enough to be out of her reach—Katniss pauses the tape. Clove is mid-jump.

"I've been put in charge of compiling a 'Best of' video to put on YouTube to play before the event starts," she explains. "Which means I get the distinct pleasure of watching six years' worth of the Victor awards."

She lets the cameras zoom in on the list she has drafted so far, which includes moments like, 'Haymitch offends a racially ambiguous waitress', 'Haymitch and Cato break a wine bottle trying to do _Fiddler on the Roof_ bit', and 'Wiress sits in front of the camera for a half hour'.

Peeta pops in after Katniss endures a particularly long, painful set in which Haymitch tried to fit everyone in the office's name into the Backstreet Boys hit "I Want it That Way".

"No, is this the Backstreet Boys Victors? 2013 was a classic year for the boy band revival covers," he comments, leaning on the door post. Katniss looks startled to see him there, and yet there is no denying the smile that instantly changes her entire demeanor.

"This is the year Haymitch had to borrow Beetee's tux…which looks even smaller on him in this tape," Katniss reminds him, grinning as she watches Haymitch's exposed wrists and ankles sloppily mimicking the Backstreet Boys choreography.

Peeta snorts.

' _Alright, the next Victor is for 'Longest Engagement', and it goes to—you guessed it—Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire! Woo! When is that girl getting married?!'_ Haymitch's voice blares from the television.

Onscreen, Katniss from two years ago averts her disappointed eyes while Darius, extremely irked, laughs uncomfortably. Darius accepts the award on Katniss' behalf and tells Haymitch that they will 'see him next year' when asked if he had anything to say. As if he knows that in 2014, 2015, and again in 2016, they would be in the same position.

' _Haha, I hope not!'_ 2013 Haymitch calls back to Darius as he barrels back to his seat. 2013 Cato begins to play the Wedding March on his iPod from where he stands at the assistant's table.

Observing present-day Katniss, the frown she wears is even deeper than the girl refusing to accept the award onscreen. Peeta's polite smile evaporates when he sees just how bent up Katniss still is about it.

* * *

" _She has won that award every year since she's been here," Peeta elaborates for the cameras in private. "I don't know who hates it more, me or her."_

* * *

"Hey, Katniss…these awards are stupid, anyway…"

Regaining her composure, Katniss waves her hand dismissively and shakes her head.

"No, it's fine. I'll at least be able to relax tonight. I know exactly what award I'm going to win. Fourth time's the charm," she says quickly before grabbing the remote and fast-forwarding to get to a less upsetting part of the reel.

Peeta looks like he wants to say more, but he opts for silence as he returns to his desk.

* * *

Haymitch, in a stroke of confidence, has left his office door wide open and his phone speaker on loud enough for anyone close enough to hear.

"Inviting my lady to the big night," he explains giddily on the third ring.

"Alma Coin," Coin's familiar, no-nonsense voice comes through on the speaker.

"Hey, Beautiful," Haymitch says with a smirk. "How's my girl?"

"I am just fine, Haymitch," Coin's voice replies, blatantly not matching the same lovey-dovey energy Haymitch gives off for her. "And please, call me Alma."

"Will her Royal Highness be descending from her throne to join her court jester—with the cutest tushy you've ever seen—and the serfs of Panem for the Victor awards this evening?"

"It's a very long drive from New York, Haymitch."

"Even for the cutest tushy you've—"

"Please stop referring to your bottom, Haymitch. No, I am not coming to Allentown tonight."

Only now does the regional manager appear to look flustered.

"Come on, Honey…"

" _Alma_."

"…Alma, this is an important night for the District. For me. This is validation to the employees that you and Corporate approve of this. Especially given, you know… _us_."

Coin's sigh from the other end of the phone is so loud that it causes the speakers to crackle.

"Okay, Haymitch, first of all Corporate does _not_ approve of this. Every District only has the budget for one office party, and your District has abused that time and time again…so, we're not paying for this."

Haymitch pauses, dead in his tracks. He quickly checks to make sure no one in the office has heard the news that the open bar tab will not be accommodated. Luckily, no one has looked up from their work. Moving swiftly, Haymitch shuts his door and closes all of the blinds to the windows in his office. The cameras can still peek through the slats in the blinds to watch the rest of the conversation.

"Um…what? You're dropping this bomb on me now?"

"Oh, I'm dropping a bomb on you?"

"Two bombs, actually! The first one being that you're not coming to my big night and now this! What are you—why are you doing this?"

"Haymitch, I'm saying, considering everything that happened on Halloween we really shouldn't be letting you have another party at all. But then there was the Annual Mayans Were Wrong about the World Ending party-three years _after_ 2012-and the President's Day 'FUN'raiser for the Girl Scouts that made no sense and actually lost them money on their cookie sales…"

"Hold on, I invited you to that Halloween party! That was our first date!"

Now, it is Coin's turn to be silent. There is no activity for so long that Haymitch thinks that she is no longer on the other line.

"Haymitch…have you thought that we've been _together_ for all of these months?"

His eyebrows arch. "Have you not thought that?"

The Vice President sighs again.

"Look, Haymitch…when I let you kiss me, I was going through an extremely confusing, vulnerable time. I was drunk, and I was upset about my divorce, and I was willing to accept whatever kindness I could get. But one kiss doesn't make us a couple."

She is met with silence. Haymitch has buried his head in his hands.

"Haymitch? Are you…?"

"Yeah, yeah…I'm here."

"You understand where I'm coming from with all of this, right? I mean, after Halloween we barely talked or saw each other…"

"You called me on Valentine's Day, though."

"To talk about a change in computer software, Haymitch. Nothing romantic. Look, I'm sorry if you read it the wrong way. It's just not a great time for me to jump into _anything_. And you and I know that we're just not…compatible…"

"I get it."

"You're going to let your employees know that Corporate is not funding this event tonight, right?"

Haymitch hangs up without giving her an answer.

* * *

" _So Corporate took our money and my girlfriend," Haymitch recaps for the cameras he thought were not watching earlier. He sips sloppily from his mug, clearly miserable. "So who knows how tonight is gonna play out…because if you're not drunk it's scientifically proven that shit is not as funny."_

* * *

" _How am I liking it here? Five months after I started working here and you're asking me this?" Gale looks taken aback when asked a seemingly simple checking-in question in a private interview. He shrugs._

" _It's…fine, I guess. My, uh,_ Madge _is a thing that's still happening. She doesn't take no for an answer, so I've done a lot of shopping and paying for nice dinners that I can't afford, but this is technically the longest I've ever been with a girl. And her dad—uh, Undersee 2016! I signed a contract stating that I have to say that every time I mention the commissioner—Undersee 2016!—is loaded…so that's a plus. Her behavior is nothing compared to Haymitch's though…"_

* * *

As Gale recounts the experiences, the cameras cut to a series of clips from the past few months in which Gale has caught Haymitch staring at him in various locations throughout the office—through the blinds of his office, from behind a plant, and even in the stall next to Gale's in the bathroom—followed by a series of prank calls and text messages from Haymitch that have been blowing up Gale's cell phone dating back to September.

* * *

" _But, like I said, I can't complain. It's a job," Gale continues, back at the interview. "Once I finish getting my business degree from my night class, I plan on getting out of here._

* * *

Still watching the videos, Katniss stumbles upon a moment that is very similar to her annual Victor.

' _Here we go—'Most Unused Potential'. You all know and love him, the guy who just keeps scraping by. Let's hear it for Peeta Mellark!'_

She watches as last year's Peeta begrudgingly accepts the award he has won for several years in a row. He wears a huge smile, but Katniss can tell that he is not happy to have his performance exploited.

Leaving the tapes running, she heads next door to Haymitch's office, where her boss is already a pint into his white liquor stash.

"You should change Peeta's award this year," Katniss says without any prompting. Haymitch looks offended.

"I can't change that one. It's a staple. Besides yours, it's one of the best ones. It gets funnier every year Peeta is subpar at his job."

"No, it's _so_ funny, you're right. I just think it's sort of redundant at this point," Katniss argues, wringing her hands in front of her as a result of her nerves.

"What's funny is how he stood right where you're standing now and made the exact same argument against your award a week ago, Sweetheart," Haymitch tells Katniss, who looks shocked to be hearing this news. "Said that it was 'lazy' of me to keep giving you 'Longest Engagement', and that everyone expects it…although I have to say, four years later and I'm still laughing at the fact that I haven't gotten a wedding invite."

"You wouldn't be invited anyway," she grumbles.

"You pushed the kid into a damn flower pot, and he's still defending you…how'd _you_ end up with a best friend like that?"

"To be fair you don't exactly paint a decent picture of any of us on this night," Katniss spits back.

"It's called _comedy_ , Sweetheart. If I went around giving everyone gold stars, then the Victors wouldn't be half as funny as they are now."

Katniss huffs and plants her hands on her hips. "Are you going to change it or not?"

Running his hands over his tired, worn face, Haymitch rolls his eyes and leans forward.

"Alright. Lucky for you, I'm in a pretty giving mood, considering everything has been taken from me today, so I think these Victors are going to be different," Haymitch says, rather dramatically. "As for Peeta, he's actually had a pretty great quarter, so to give him 'Unused Potential' would be counterproductive…I'll think of something, Sweetheart."

Katniss beams. "Thank you, Haymitch."

* * *

"Attention employees of Panem!" Cato bellows, stalking the perimeter of his desk like a lion pacing its cage. "I have a very important announcement. Since I am no longer assisting with the Victor awards, I will be charging for my services as designated driver this evening."

"That's not fair," Wiress comments from her seat at her own desk. "You already agreed to be one of the three drivers."

"That was before I knew that my services had been taken for granted," Cato retorts.

"Clove and Beetee's cars are full, Cato. Boggs is taking all of the warehouse guys. How are the rest of us supposed to get home?" Johanna pries angrily. "I'm _not_ staying sober tonight."

"Well, then get your wallet out, Mason. My rates start at $100 per trip…"

Haymitch emerges from his office, extremely wasted and in no mood to make the announcement his not-girlfriend Coin has forced him to make.

"Haymitch, Cato is trying to charge us for rides home," Madge wastes no time before tattling on Cato, who shoots her daggers.

"You and your Jimmy Choos can _walk_ , then, Commissioner's Brat" Cato sneers. Madge squeaks and retreats behind Gale's sturdy frame.

"Gale, say something. Defend me! He just called me a 'Commissoner's Brat'," Madge hisses. Gale looks dumbfounded until his eyes find the cameras.

"Uh…Undersee 2016!" Gale says lamely, earning a slap on the forearm from Madge.

"Are you going to let him charge us?" Katniss asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Haymitch shakes his weary head, somewhat grateful for something to talk about other than Corporate's disapproval.

"No, that's…dumb. Don't listen to Cato…"

"Well, you replaced me, so it's only fair that I make up for what I lost," Cato argues. Haymitch, upon hearing the word 'loss', starts talking over Cato, claiming that he knows nothing about loss the way that Haymitch has experienced loss today.

Finally, Haymitch shouts, "Just shut up!" and everyone is rendered silent.

Haymitch pauses, composing himself and working on a way to articulate the alcohol issue.

"I know you all have probably heard the rumors circulating about the Victors this year. Like how there is no money for a tab or food, or how the jokes are lazy, or my girlfriend is a no-show…"

"We haven't heard any of that," Clove says. "Are they true?"

* * *

" _This is my big chance to prove to everyone that I am good at something," Caesar tells the cameras. "The chance to help Haymitch host the Victors means the world to me. I used to have a radio show called_ Caesar Speaks _in my twenties, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Then the iPod came out and people stopped listening to the radio and I had to go into accounting, which, sources will tell you, is not fun."_

 _Caesar sighs wistfully. "Tonight is my chance to get it all back. To show the iPod who is boss. I can't do that if the jokes are bad!"_

* * *

"The Victors are about the best in all of us, guys! I mean, what the hell happened to our Victors spirit?" Haymitch rants, side-stepping the rumor slip-up entirely. "We can do better than this! We have cute tushies, damnit!"

"Don't…don't talk about tushies, Haymitch," a disgruntled Effie mumbles.

Haymitch holds his hand up against her face, smearing her make-up as he continues to speak.

"That's why, this year, everyone is invited to bring their loved ones."

There is a general murmur of happy agreement throughout the office, which makes Haymitch smile, despite the fact that they have all unknowingly signed off to pay their own personal bills for the evening.

"Good stuff, right? Let's make this the best Victors ever."

Cato starts clapping enthusiastically. "Alright! Best Victors ever!"

"You're still not helping me out tonight, Cato."

"Damnit!"

* * *

" _Mark my words. I'll think of something. By next year's Victors, I will be back on top," Cato says menacingly before wrenching himself from the chair used for private interviews and stalking out of the office._

* * *

The sounds of a funky, jazzy pop tune that has very clearly been found on a teenager's Tumblr page surges through the crowded Parachute Grill. Employees and their guests mill about the main dining room and partake in conversation over the sounds of Caesar's introduction.

"Thank you for being here tonight on the eve of the Seventh Annual Victor Awards!" Caesar cheers from the podium Haymitch swiped from the hostess of the restaurant.

"Tonight, on this stage, Panem's brightest stars will vie for the chance to win some of the highest honors they have ever received, and for one night only, all of us will get the chance to show our fellow employees support, appreciation, and most importantly…love. What a night. Let's hear it! I'm so excited HAHAHAHA!"

* * *

 _The camera crew finds Haymitch, struggling to clip on his necktie, near the swinging kitchen doors of the Parachute Grill. Cressida asks him if he is excited for tonight._

" _Oh, yeah, of course. It's going to be the best Victors yet!" Haymitch says, panting as he hastily continues to try and work his tie. "Could do without Caesar's sappy intro…he's supposed to be hyping the crowd up for my entrance…"_

 _The first notes of Nicki Minaj's "Superbass" blare over the restaurant sound system._

" _Great, he's early with my cue. (Bleep) live theater…now I know how Ellen must have felt when she was trying to order a pizza while everyone around her was messing up her night at the Oscars…God, I've gotta do better than Ellen."_

 _Reaching into his jacket pocket, Haymitch takes a long swig from the flask he has brought from home._

" _Someone has to be drunk tonight," he explain before he bolts off in the direction of the main dining room._

* * *

As to be expected, Haymitch, clad in a ridiculously offensive outfit that is supposed to pass as the outfit of a rapper, has a difficult time keeping up with Minaj's fast-paced rapping ability as he tries to slip in his new and improved lyrics, which Gale has been put in charge of holding up for Haymitch on cue-cards:

" _Friend said, excuse me, are the Victors tonight?  
_ _I hear your boss Haymitch is a hell of a guy  
_ _You're lucky to be working under his watchful eye  
_ _At the Panem Electric Company, with a 'y'—_ Gale, the card. Gale, next card!  
 _Got an award, yes I did, somebody please tell them who the eff I is  
_ _I am a Victor, I mack them dudes up, and—_ Damnit, Gale…the next card should be up!— _them dudes up…"_

The music stops abruptly, and the chopped up, clashing verses of Nicki Minaj and the bumbling man with the microphone come to an abrupt close.

Caesar holds up the chord from the stereo. "It appears as though the waitress has stepped on the chord," he says into a second microphone that he has found for himself and placed on the podium, allowing his voice to become deeper as he goes into 'announcer mode'.

"Whatever. Nailed that first verse anyway. Welcome, welcome to the 2016 Victor Awards, hosted by yours truly—"

"—and co-hosted," Caesar begins.

"Nope, just hosted by me. Welcome, also, to the lovely members of our winners' families, who have joined us tonight," Haymitch interrupts, unplugging Caesar's stereo chord again. "Before we begin, I'd like to take a moment to remind you all to please drink responsibly. Do not drink and drive…because otherwise you might spill the drink if you hit a bump in the road."

This joke receives a full-on belly laugh from Caesar into his microphone, while everyone stares on blankly.

At their table, Darius accepts drinks from a waitress for Katniss and himself, telling her to put the drinks on the group tab.

Haymitch, upon hearing this, pipes up.

"Uh, actually, no group tab this year. Corporate can't pay for tonight's event, so we're going to be doing separate checks tonight, ladies and gents!"

Everyone groans in protest.

"You told us to bring our families," Cinna remarks, annoyed.

"Yeah, and you didn't, Cinna, so…" Haymitch says slowly into the mic.

"Yes, I did. My wife's name is Portia."

Haymitch purses his lips. "Well, when she arrives, be sure to introduce me to her."

There is a scoffing noise from across Cinna's table, where a beautiful woman, dressed stylishly in an outfit that is complimentary to Cinna's, frowns.

"I did introduce you to her. I've been holding her hand this entire time."

From behind him, Haymitch hears the sound effect of school children going, "Oooooh", as if Haymitch is being sent to the principal's office. Caesar beams at the stereo.

"I figured out how to work sound effects!" he cheers.

"Shut it, you ostentatious land shark," Haymitch hisses directly into his mic. Recovering from his slip up with Cinna, he moves onto the next joke.

"Speaking of relationships, just the other day I was getting hot and heavy with one of the ladies at Corporate."

"But, Haymitch, Alma Coin broke up with you I thought?" Caesar interrupts, innocence written all over his face. Haymitch simmers while Caesar gets the crowd to let out a simultaneous 'aww'.

Peeta eyes his drink, as if he wants to down the entire thing, but he thinks better of it.

* * *

" _If these first five minutes are any indication of how the night's going to go, and if I don't want to waste my paycheck on drinks tonight, I have to pace myself…" Peeta says in a private interview at the front of the restaurant while Haymitch finishes his joke about how the lady from Corporate fired him before he could take off her bra._

 _Peering over his shoulder, Peeta observes how miserable the rest of his sober co-workers, who are sipping their first and only drinks sparingly, look._

" _Guess I'm not alone in that mindset."_

* * *

Haymitch begins to announce the first award of the night.

"No lazy jokes tonight, people! But this office _is_ full of lazy people, not a joke! The award for 'Laziest Lump' goes to…"

Katniss winces before eyeing Haymitch angrily. She shoots Peeta a weary glance, but he's already staring at his lap expectantly.

"…Johanna Mason!"

There is light applause as Johanna storms up to the podium and yanks the award from her boss's hands. He catches her before she can go back to her seat, asking if she has any words for her acceptance speech.

Johanna rolls her eyes.

"No, thanks."

"Classic lazy Mason. No speech prepared," Haymitch jokes. Caesar clears his throat and leans in, looking puzzled.

"Johanna, you are angry," Caesar announces to the restaurant. "Tell us why."

Johanna laughs acerbically, grabbing Caesar's microphone.

"Well, yes, I'm angry. I'm getting totally screwed over here. The deal was that if I came tonight, there would be an open bar. But now, I'm stuck here, and you wanna make me _pay_ for everything I've already ordered."

Haymitch makes the hand-signal for her to wrap up her speech, which only makes Johanna even angrier.

"You know what, (BEEP) THIS. AND (BEEP) ANYONE WHO HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS."

She drops the mic, receiving uproarious applause as she saunters back to her seat. Haymitch glowers at Caesar, who begins to play the assigned segue music.

* * *

" _Who does Caesar think he is? Stepping on my toes like that?" Haymitch, who now sweats through his dress shirt and has undone his tie, exclaims. "I'm the host, not him. Man needs to learn his place…God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss Cato."_

 _His brow furrows and he looks out to the crowd. Cato is nowhere in sight._

" _Where is that pinhead anyway?"_

* * *

While this is going on, the cameras cut to another table, where Katniss sits in between her bored fiancé and the warehouse foreman.

"You wanna get out of here and go to the Hob?" Boggs leans over and whispers across the table to Darius, who nods enthusiastically.

"Please, let's get out of here."

They get up in the middle of Haymitch's next bit about how Effie without her morning coffee reminds him of the raptors from _Jurassic World_.

Darius sends Katniss, who is still seated, a pointed look. She starts to shake her head, but Darius pulls her out of her chair.

Haymitch pauses.

"Hey, guys, where are you going? Katniss, show's just getting started…"

Gripping her coat with her blanched knuckles, Katniss shrugs. Her fiancé and Boggs are already at the door, beckoning her to join them. Peeta watches from behind his beer bottle with sympathetic eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbles before ducking out.

Peeta and Gale, sitting together with Madge, watch her go.

"Are you gonna stay?" Gale whispers loudly to Peeta after a hushed discussion with his girlfriend. Staring at the forlorn, floundering boss at the front of the room, Peeta nods slowly.

"Might as well."

* * *

Out in the parking lot, the crew catches the tail end of an argument between Katniss and Darius.

"He's a jackass every year, Katniss," Darius says as he grips her arm and drags her toward his truck.

"I don't care. I want to stay! If you would have taken the time to ask me, rather than tell me what to do, then you would know that I wanted to stay!" she shouts, tearing herself from his grasp.

Darius, eyes wild, looks like he wants to punch something.

"Katniss, do you seriously want to go back in there and win 'Longest Engagement' again? You already have too many awards with your name written on that…it's embarrassing for me…"

Katniss whirls around, her gray eyes on fire.

"It's embarrassing for you? _You? Really?"_

"Yeah, it is!" Darius shoots back.

"Well, then _do_ something about it, Darius," she says, lowering her voice drastically. His eyes flicker, knowing what she means. There is a hint of fear that creeps into his features.

"Katniss…"

"Do something." Her eyes are pleading, yet hard.

They stand face to face for a few agonizing moments before Darius acts suddenly. He envelops her in a hug, whispering something undetectable to the cameras. Katniss' eyes go wide, as if she did not think that Darius would react this way. Slowly, her arms circle around his middle and she hugs him back.

* * *

Katniss chooses to re-enter the restaurant indiscreetly, ducking her head and averting her eyes from everyone who stares at her while she slides into the seat beside Peeta.

He looks pleasantly surprised to see that she has returned.

"Hey! I thought you left?" Peeta whispers. "Everything alright?"

Katniss nods violently and begins to breathe as if she is about to hyperventilate.

"Yeah, uh huh, I'm good. I'll get a ride home with Clove. Everything's…great, actually," she says quickly, her voice trembling. She pretends to be watching Haymitch's Miley Cyrus impression for a moment before deciding it's not worth it to even feign interest. Pointing at the beer Peeta nurses, she adds, "You gonna finish that?"

Before he can answer, she has the bottle raised to her lips, downing the rest of the its savored contents.

"I was," Peeta says, nose crinkling. "But go ahead."

Johanna, upon surveying this, pumps her fist in the air.

"Oh, I can get on board with this," she says, and then she does the unthinkable when she hands Katniss her precious martini. "Getting Brainless all loosened up is worth none of us being able to drink."

Peeta, who has a front row seat, watches in awe as his co-workers hand over their disputed alcohol to an ever-willing Katniss Everdeen.

* * *

The cameras finally find Cato.

Crouched in the shrubbery outside of the restaurant, Cato barks orders at a dopey-looking young man with a boyish haircut and mismatched clothes. Beetee is surprisingly with them, rubbing his hands together to try and generate heat in the nippy February air.

Almost as if he is excited to see that the crew has located him, Cato beams.

"We're gonna shut this baby down. Beetee's figuring out how to turn off the electricity—because I told him I'd pay for his meal and give him my prime parking space for the rest of the year—in the main dining room, creating the ultimate technical difficulty. We're talking Beyoncé at the Superbowl, people. Caesar won't be able to figure it out, and I'll get the power back up and running on my own, thus saving the day. I'll never have to worry about my place at the Victors again!"

The man-boy who has been assisting with the operation limps up to Cato and worriedly points at a pair of wire cutters that have been lodged into his thigh. The man's lip quivers as Cato tears the cutters from the flesh.

"I got too excited," he tells Cato. "You only live once."

Rolling his eyes at his cohort's incompetence, Cato looks at the cameras as he wipes sweat from his brow while the other man trots off.

"I just brought Marvel along because he hadn't been out of the apartment in a while. Clearly."

* * *

"This next award goes to someone who, I think we can all agree, has brought sexy back. Someone we all can't help but check out," Haymitch says, lowering his voice to a sultry tone while Caesar blasts the Justin Timberlake song of the same name over the loudspeakers.

"The 'Hottest in the Office' award goes to…Gale the Temp!"

Gale sits, stunned, while a very tipsy Katniss and his over-enthusiastic girlfriend cheer at the top of their lungs for him. He looks torn between vomiting and running away.

Haymitch sings along to 'Sexyback', never once taking his eyes off of the man who stalks toward him. They play a bit of cat and mouse with the award before Gale simply yanks it out of Haymitch's hands and rushes to the bathroom. Haymitch sneaks in a smack on Gale's butt before he can retreat.

"Cute tushies all around!" Haymitch cheers.

* * *

 _Gale is unable to form a comment when asked how he feels about winning this particular Victor._

* * *

Katniss, now on alcoholic beverage number who-knows-what, laughs at absolutely nothing. It is the only sound, other than the cricket sound-effect, that fills the dining room when Clove refuses to accept the award for 'Office Hard-Ass'.

Peeta, who was at first concerned for his friend, cannot contain his laughter as he watches her chase after the straw in an empty martini glass.

"Everdeen, the straw isn't going to magically put more alcohol in that glass," Peeta comments through a chuckle. She eyes him goofily, batting her eyelashes as she giggles uncontrollably.

"But the melted ice that made a second drink will, silly!"

Back up front, Haymitch has just awarded Madge with the 'Legally Blonde' award.

"Is this supposed to be a dumb blonde joke?" Madge asks as she reads the engraving on her award.

"Don't read into it, Sweetheart."

"Because Elle Woods, like, kicks ass in that movie. Do you think I kick ass at my job, Haymitch?"

"Seriously, don't read into it…"

"Why is my award shaped like a skier? Everyone else got businessmen."

"Just sit down, Madge."

* * *

" _It's going well. The crowd is lukewarm without the alcohol, which is to be expected, but—" Haymitch pauses for another drink from his flask in his designated 'backstage' area. "Wanna know a ssssecret, though? I've been sneaking drinks from the bar all night. I don't care if Caesar is sucking all of the fun out of the room or if Alma isn't my girlfriend or if the warehouse guys left, because I'm king of the world!"_

 _He holds out his arms, replicating the pose from the infamous_ Titanic _movie scene, when the next musical cue sends him stumbling toward the dining room._

" _I'm prob'ly drunkest one here…c'est la vie," Haymitch says with a smirk as he wanders back. "Katniss may have me beat, though…she's_ plastered _!"_

* * *

Haymitch is halfway through an off-key, re-written Victors edition of 'Time of My Life', in which Katniss, now very drunk, is swaying off-beat to, when the power goes out.

"Thank God!" one restaurant patron shouts. "I thought it would _never_ end."

"What the hell? Where's the power?" Haymitch asks Caesar, who scrambles to find the source of the problem.

"It appears as though our event may have caused a power shortage in the Parachute Grill," Caesar, still using his radio talk show voice, tells Haymitch.

"Is this a black-light party?" Katniss slurs to anyone who will care to give her an answer. When no one answers her, she looks around blindly for another drink to finish off.

"Can we get the power back on? Someone?" Haymitch shouts in the darkness.

Several other patrons start to boo and hiss in protest to Haymitch's request.

"Shut up, Old Man!" one particularly vehement customer calls out.

"Hey, fellas…this is a work function, so mind your business."

"You suck!" another man shouts. "No power means we no longer have to deal with the loser. No power, no loser! No power, no loser!"

More people join in with this chant. In the darkness, the cameras catch something being thrown at Haymitch.

Most of the employees watch helplessly. Caesar tries to settle the crowd down, but Haymitch holds his hand up to stop him.

"No, it's fine. This night was a bust anyway," Haymitch shouts over the chanting, silencing a few of his hecklers. He addresses his office in a quiet, rumbling, drunken rage. "I had a few more Victors to give out, but I may as well just wrap it up, because that's what everyone wants. And you know what, these guys are right. I'm loser. Can't a get a woman to take me seriously…can't get respect at my job…I ruined the tradition of the Victors by changing everything. Figures that the power would go out on me."

At this point, the cameras spot Cato standing in the door, Marvel and Beetee behind him. He watches Haymitch unravel with just as much pity and shame as everyone else.

"Marvel, go turn the power back on," Cato orders to his roommate, who now sports a menu as a hat. Marvel puts the menu under his shirt and darts back outside as if he were on a secret heist.

"You know you're not going to get any credit for announcing that you can fix the power now, right?" Beetee informs Cato. The younger salesman nods.

"It's alright. You can't win 'em all."

Haymitch, still on his tirade, continues to speak to his workers.

"This night was supposed to be about celebrating winners, but there are no real winners. This loser would know. This loser spent three months thinking he was with a woman who called him on Valentine's Day to talk about software. So, thanks for listening—those of you who did—this last Victor goes to Wiress. It's the 'Go Nuts' award, for that time she went nuts when someone brought in nuts, despite her severe allergy. Congrats, Wiress."

The power outage causes Haymitch to stumble to Wiress' table and slam the Victor down beside her plate.

"I'll cashew on the flip-side, Hicks—damnit…" Haymitch grumbles to himself as his hunched form retreats to where the shell-shocked Caesar has finally been rendered silent.

That is when Katniss starts to change the tides of the evening. Cheering as she does so, she reaches across the table and grabs Peeta's hand. Peeta follows suit by grabbing Johanna's hand, and the chain reaction continues.

When the lights come back on, every Panem employee has joined hands, standing in solidarity for their fearless leader.

"Woo! Go Wiress and her severe peanut allergy! Woo!" the drunk receptionist cheers encouragingly. It is loud enough for the snickering strangers over by the bar to hear. Peeta slowly joins in, and the rest of the gang follows suit.

"Atta girl, Wiress! Keeping the peanut butter out of the office!" Cato shouts as he joins Gale and Madge at their table in the back and takes either of their hands.

"Hey, Haymitch! I haven't gotten my Victor yet!" Katniss calls. She jabs Peeta in the ribcage.

"Oh yeah, same here! Victors, Victors, Victors…"

Soon everyone is chanting again, this time with positive reinforcement for the host of the evening.

"Shut up!" a bar heckler tries to protest.

Cato chucks his wire cutters in their direction, and then he joins in with the chant.

Haymitch swells with pride.

"Alright then, majority rules! Let's keep this ball rolling! Caesar, co-host, cue music!"

Caesar flashes Haymitch a brilliant smile at the use of the term 'co-host' before he begins to blast the sounds of the _Rocky_ theme.

Haymitch doles out the rest of the Victors and their corresponding jokes with a newfound confidence, fueled by Katniss' drunken whoops, cheers, and laughs.

"Perhaps one of the most coveted awards of the night: 'The Most Improved'! And the Victor goes to…Peeta Mellark!"

Peeta receives a standing ovation from Katniss, and he accepts his award with a humble, "Thank you to every grade school teacher who told me that this would be an impossible feat."

* * *

" _Pretty amazing. A real success story…boy likes girl, girl is engaged, girl publically scorns boy, boy puts his frustrations into his work…boy wins Victor he still didn't deserve without girl's help," Peeta tells the cameras as he sits alone at the bar for a private interview._

 _Pulling his Victor closer into the frame, the cameras see that 'Most Unused Potential', already engraved in the award, has been crossed out and re-written to say 'Most Improved' with Sharpie in Haymitch's handwriting._

* * *

"And last, but certainly not least, for Miss Katniss Everdeen…you have been awarded 'Most Receptive Receptionist'!"

The office erupts in cheers all around her. Katniss's face contorts in a portrayal of every Hollywood actress' "I can't believe I won!" face, most likely because she is too drunk to have expected anything less than her usual award.

* * *

" _We didn't have much to go with after the boy vetoed the engagement joke," Haymitch, sitting beside Caesar in a booth at the restaurant, candidly tells the cameras._

 _Caesar shrugs. "It's very true, I'm afraid."_

* * *

Peeta gives her an encouraging nudge to go and accept her award. She flounces up to the stage and grabs Caesar's mic, beginning to talk before her walk-up music can fade out.

"I have so many people I want to thank! First of all, thank you to my phone, and my computer, and my Post-it Notes, and my planner. I couldn't have done it without you guys!"

Haymitch laughs, noting how genuinely excited drunk Katniss is to have won something other than 'Longest Engagement'.

"Second of all, let's thank the host and the co-host for working so hard on making tonight fun, even without the alcohol…Seriously, I don't know how you gusy are doing this, because being drunk is so much funner than being not drunk."

Everyone surprisingly responds well to this comment, laughing and applauding.

"Lastly, thank you all for believing in me. GO VICTORS!"

Peeta is still clapping when she returns, Victor in hand, to their table. She throws her arms around him and firmly locks her lips with his. Peeta's eyes are as wide as saucers, and he is frozen in shock until Katniss pulls away, still laughing from the high her success has granted her.

Cheeks tinted bright red, Peeta crawls back to his seat while Katniss continues to triumphantly show off her Victor, as if nothing happened. But no one in the area is watching those two because of Katniss' victory.

* * *

 _In a joint private interview, Peeta and Katniss sit beside each other on bar stools. Peeta recaps the evening's highlights while Katniss nods enthusiastically, training her intense, drunken stare on the blonde boy beside her._

" _Best. Victors. Ever. I mean, we saw_ Woody, _Haymitch's gay bartender character , hit on an actual gay bartender. We finally learned the answer to that burning question of who is hottest in the office. And multiple songs were butchered forever."_

 _He does a double take when he sees how abnormal Katniss looks beside him._

" _What?" he asks._

 _She giggles. "Nothing…what?"_

 _He shrugs, playfully, and jeers, "I don't know, Drunk Drunk Biddie. What?"_

 _She laughs so hard at his joke that she falls out of her seat, hitting the floor with a thud. Peeta tries to lift her, but she is laughing too hard._

" _You're so out of it, Everdeen!" He turns to face the cameras, a huge grin on his face. "Tell me that you guys just caught that!"_

 _Cato interrupts the interview by bursting onto the scene and ripping his shirt off to elevate Katniss' head while he searches for signs of concussion. Marvel, meanwhile, is running around the restaurant, flailing his arms and screeching that someone just died._

 _The interview is further interrupted when the manager of the Parachute Grill demands that Cato put his shirt back on, that Katniss receive a breathalyzer test, and that the Panem employees leave the restaurant immediately._

* * *

" _Was this year's Victors a success?" Haymitch reiterates the question while his workers all hastily work to clean up their respective areas and the wait staff looks on behind him. "Well, I fought off a pack of haters, I made Katniss laugh so hard she fell out of her seat, and we literally shut the restaurant down for the night. I'd call that a success. Ellen is probably allowed back at that pizza place she ordered from at the Oscars…so take that, Ellen!"_

 _His smile diminishes a little when a thought finally strikes him._

" _The only thing that could have made tonight more perfect would have been if she came…" he smirks a little, despite his sadness about Alma. "That's what she said."_

* * *

"Hey, Cato," Haymitch calls out to the salesman, who juggles a Victor, a toolbox, and a sleeping roommate draped over his shoulder. "I just wanted to say…thanks for being a good sport tonight. For some reason that is beyond me, I missed having you up there tonight."

Cato grins. "We're the Fey and Poehler of the Victors, buddy."

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. We're Hathaway and Franco, at best."

Cato shrugs, readjusting Marvel, who snores in his ear.

"I'll take it."

"Have a good weekend, Cato. Go make some woman swoon over your 'Sorest Winner' Victor."

Cato salutes his boss before kissing the tiny golden business man that stands atop his Victor on his tiny golden head.

"With pride, Sir."

* * *

"I'm really sorry about what happened on Halloween," Katniss says, fiddling with the zippers on her purse. Beside her on the bench outside of the restaurant, Peeta shakes his head. "I meant to apologize months ago, but I didn't know how…"

"It was forever ago, Katniss. Don't worry about it."

"No, I shouldn't have said those horrible things to you. I shouldn't have _literally_ pushed you away. You were just trying to help, and you were just trying to remind me that there's more to life than being Panem's most receptive receptionist…which is more than what I can say for a lot of people."

"Really, Katniss, don't blame yourself. I deserved it, alright? It wasn't my place, you didn't need me to be there."

He holds up his revised award and laughs bitterly.

"I don't even know how this company hasn't managed to get rid of me, yet. I'm always going to be 'Most Unused Potential'. Panem doesn't need me. Nobody needs me, really…"

"I do," she says abruptly. "I need you. I'd probably blow my brains out if you weren't around."

Peeta smiles at Katniss' comments about needing him.

"Oh, God...guess I should stick around, then, if your blood is on my hands," he says with a laugh, getting her to join in.

Her steely gray eyes, clouded over with alcohol, rise to meet his clear blue eyes.

"You'll be proud of me, though. I finally made a choice about something. Something _huge_."

Peeta's face flickers with hope.

"Really?" he asks. Katniss nods, a small smile forming on her lips. "What's that?"

"Darius and I set a wedding date. Before I came back inside…I just told him to do it and he did, which I didn't expect him to."

Peeta bows his head, his blonde hair falling into his eyes.

She begins to hyperventilate again, stopping herself just in time to regain her composure. "July Fourth weekend of this year. Wow, having an actual date for it feels...really good."

He hasn't been able to look at her this whole time, so he cannot see how terrified she actually looks to be saying those words. Failing miserably to mask his sadness, Peeta puts his hand on her shoulder and finally allows himself to look up, forcing a faux smile.

"That's great. Congratulations, Everdeen. I am really happy for you."

She smiles, too intoxicated to see through the cracks in Peeta's flimsy armor. Just then, Clove's silver Hybrid pulls up to the curb. Peeta leads Katniss to the passenger's side door, making jokes about her watching her step as she almost trips on the curb.

They pause, staring into each other's eyes once more, outside of the car.

"Hey, Peeta…?"

Peeta swallows, unsure of what she is about to say. "Yeah?"

Katniss readies herself and leans in toward him, as if she is about to admit something drastic and long overdue to the expectant boy who holds her up. She catches the cameras that have been trained on her, however, and all momentum stops.

"Well, say something," he whispers, their noses nearly touching.

"I'm not very good at saying something."

"Katniss," he breathes. "It's okay."

She steadies herself, anchoring herself with his gaze.

"Uh, thanks for the beer."

Peeta smiles through the missed window of opportunity, laughing off the fact that this is not at all what he had anticipated.

"Alright, let's get you home, you drunk sailor," he says as he opens the car door and helps her get in. He thanks Clove for driving, shuts the door, and watches from the restaurant parking lot as the car disappears from view.

He shuffles off to his own car, where the cameras watch him rest his head on the back of the seat while his knuckles blanch from gripping the steering wheel.

* * *

Haymitch stands outside, waving off the last of the cars as he holds his phone up to his ear.

"I have twelve voicemails from Alma. They're all to yell at me for an invitation I sent her earlier for the new and improved Victors, which she was none too happy about," Haymitch explains to the cameras. He pulls the phone away from his ear, and the sounds of Coin's shrill scolding can be heard on the other end.

"This particular voicemail is to yell at me for the call she received from the tattle tale bitch-ass manager of the Parachute…God, you know, the more I hear her voice, the more I'm glad we broke up. Office relationships are just too complicated. Relationships in general are just…"

"Haymitch? Haymitch Abernathy?"

The sound of his name being called draws the attention of both the manager and the cameras to focus on a woman, about Haymitch's age, standing in the parking lot. Her dark hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders, and her black trench coat hugs her curvaceous form. She wears a bright smile that crinkles the edges of her mouth and eyes.

Haymitch blinks as if he is seeing a ghost.

"Get outta town. Cecelia Mendez?"

The woman laughs, releasing a puff of condensation into the nighttime air.

"Oh my gosh, hi!" she exclaims, running to envelop him in a hug that suggests that the two of them go way back. "I can't believe it!"

"I know, it's been years!" Haymitch says with a chuckle as he pulls out of the hug. "Goodness, I haven't seen you since high school! What are you doing back in Allentown?"

The woman shrugs. "I live here now. I'm a real estate agent, and I just relocated after my divorce. Thought it would be good for me to get away from Tennessee and to check out some of the properties in the area…"

She hugs her jacket closer as she trails off. Her eyes dart to the restaurant.

"Say, you wanna catch up over a drink? I was going to meet up with some girlfriends from school here, but my plans fell through…you and I both know that nothing stops us from a wild Friday night, though. What do you say?"

Haymitch nervously scratches the back of his head.

"Funny story, but Parachute closed a little early tonight…"

Cecelia smiles, a knowing glint in her eye. "Still a party animal, I see. You shut this place down like you used to in high school? Impressive."

Haymitch laughs loudly.

"Something like that. I'll have to explain myself. Would you care to join me for a drink somewhere else? There's a nice tavern a few blocks down the road…"

Placing her hand on his arm, Cecelia tells him that she would love nothing more.

* * *

" _Cecelia Mendez…" Haymitch says in disbelief. Her name still tells the cameras nothing about her relation to him, which is what Cressida's original question was. "Life is funny like that. Throwing you little curveballs."_

 _He laughs to himself. "Cecelia Mendez…you just don't see some things coming."_

 _Haymitch gets in his car before he says anything else about the mystery woman he is going to get a drink with._

* * *

Later, a camera crewman that had followed Katniss and Clove home to ensure Katniss' safety post-alcohol binge continues to follow Clove to a new, unknown location.

The crew parks across the street from the apartment complex. Getting out of her car, Clove makes an extra effort to fix up her appearance and takes a deep breath before she bounds up the steps to the apartment door.

Cato answers and speaks to her for a moment at the doorway.

He throws the crew a curveball when he seals the gap between himself and the accountant with a long, passionate kiss.

* * *

 **A/N: Couldn't go without a Dundies parallel, now could I? Focusing on one of my all-time favorite _Office_ moments and spinning it into the HG world was so much fun. Lots of craziness happening here! Let me know your thoughts and reactions in reviews! I'd love to hear what you thought about moments and jokes and surprises!**

 **Thank you all so much for being incredibly wonderful supporters of this fic. I cannot begin to express my gratitude to each and every one of you! The next update, which will end the first year of the documentary, will be up as soon as possible. I've been going through some health complications (nothing major, thankfully...but enough to force me to schedule a bunch of annoying appointments), so I'll do my best to make things speedy. Hugs and kisses to all!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	5. Year One: Odds in Favor

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything. Both** _ **The Hunger Games**_ **and** _ **The Office (US)**_ **belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 1, Episode 5: Odds in Favor**

When the fire alarm starts to go off, no one in the office is expecting it.

Cato, the self-proclaimed safety marshal, springs to his feet.

"Everyone, this is not a drill! Report to the nearest exit and evacuate the building immediately!" When no one reacts quite as seriously as Cato would like, he ups the ante a bit. "This is a coal company, people! We could blow up with this kind of ammo! Put some pep in your step!"

In a panic, a mob of employees jams up the front door, desperately trying to be the first ones to safety.

They are all intercepted by their manager, who leaps from a hidden escape carved into the window of his office. Haymitch crawls out of the surprisingly removable window and surges ahead of everyone else.

"Remain calm…everyone REMAIN (BEEP)-ING CALM. THIS IS IT, PEOPLE. THIS IS THE END."

Haymitch is the first person out the door, getting onto the elevator by himself and screaming cryptic things to everyone else as they try to get on with him. But Haymitch whips out another emergency surprise, his pocket knife, and fends those keeping the door open out of the way.

"Only Gale! Save the temp!"

"Why him?" Cato shouts from the back of the huddle, still trying to manage the crowd.

"Yeah, why me?" Gale asks nervously as Haymitch ushers him into the elevator.

"You're tall, you'll be good for protection."

"But, I shouldn't—"

"DAMNIT, LUMBERJACK BOY. DO YOU WANNA DIE?! GET IN THE ELEVATOR."

* * *

" _No, when I pictured the whole 'Save the Temp' thing coming true, I didn't think it would come from Haymitch in the middle of a fire as he used me as a ladder while he told the rest of his employees to essentially go die," Gale says when the recall of his hashtag campaign is brought up._

* * *

The doors close, and Haymitch, who has started to climb Gale like a tree, disappears, leaving his employees to wait for the next elevator.

Cato remains behind. The cameras zoom in on him as he sniffs like a hound dog around the office, trying to locate the trigger for the alarm.

He is under Sae's desk, a logical place where a fire would start given the woman's questionable nature, when Madge, sputtering and coughing, comes bursting through the door of the main office that adjoins with the kitchen. A plume of smoke follows after her, setting off the sprinklers in the ceiling.

"What's happening?" she cries. "Something's burning in the kitchen!"

Cato jumps at the sounds, hitting his head on the desk he had been lodging under.

"Of course, the kitchen," he mumbles over the blaring of the alarm.

He rushes to the blonde girl and scoops her into his arms.

"Are you rescuing me, Cato?" Madge asks, amusement in her voice as Cato rushes her to the door closest to the elevator. "That's chivalrous of you!"

He drops her on the ground seconds later, all sense of chivalry having evaded him.

"Stop, drop, and roll woman! Save yourself!" he shouts before rushing over to the wall where the fire extinguisher rests behind a glass case. Madge shrieks as Cato head-butts the glass and grabs the extinguisher.

"That wasn't necessary!" she shouts.

"Get out of here, you weak-armed woman!"

"Why aren't you coming?"

"I have to save the office and put out this fire!"

Madge rolls her eyes, still sitting on the ground.

"That's what the fire department is for!"

"Damnit, Madge, get out of here! I'm the safety marshal; it's my job to ensure the safety of the office. Army crawl to stay below the smoke line, breathe through your nose, and for the love of God, try and keep your trap closed for, like, five seconds while doing this…"

Huffing in protest, Madge stays put. Cato grumbles to himself. Now is not the time for her to be stubborn or care about someone else's well being. This odd behavior of hers must be attributed to the smoke she has inhaled. Cato stalks over to where he planted Madge, picks her up again, and tosses her into the elevator.

"Tell Haymitch it's been a pleasure serving him," Cato says dramatically. Madge, the stakes of her dramatic build-up of the circumstances just as high, raises her three fingers to the sky.

"I'll never forget you, my hero…"

Cato pauses for a moment, and then impulsively starts to lean in. Madge's hand smushing his face stops him.

"What are you—?"

"I was…I got caught up in the heat of the moment. You didn't think a kiss was the next appropriate thing?"

"Ew, no. I have a boyfriend…who will _never_ know about this. You're welcome."

"That boyfriend of yours is probably being cradled in our boss' arms as we speak! Sorry to throw you off of your high horse, but I didn't want to kiss you, anyway. I guess I'm just upset that Haymitch chose to save Gale over me. So, I wanted to get back at him."

Madge offers him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"There, there."

Once again, Cato misses the correct cue and goes in for the kiss.

"Cato, stop!"

"COME ON. YOU ARE THROWING ME VERY MIXED SIGNALS, UNDERSEE. Every scene in the movies goes like this—hero saves damsel, they have a heart to heart, they kiss. It's textbook, like in _Indiana Jones,_ or _Star Trek_ , or _Robin Hood_ …"

"Well, I wasn't trying to kiss you. Ever. No matter how mad I am that Gale isn't the one rescuing me. You remember Gale. My _boyfriend._ "

Cato shrugs. "I have a lover as well, anyway."

"Really? Like an actual human girl?" Madge says, halting the argument to gauge if he is lying or not about having a woman in his life. Cato looks offended.

"Yes! What, is it so hard to believe that I could be the object of a woman's affection?"

"We don't have time to talk about this, Cato…there's a literal fire in the office."

"Forget the fire, and tell me why you don't think I could have a lover. Is it the same reason why you wouldn't kiss me?"

Madge crinkles her nose. Both of them are drenched and still endangered by the alleged kitchen fire.

"Omigod, just go put out the fire, Cato. And stop using the word 'lover'. It's like you're sixty years old…Look, not even in a parallel universe would someone like me ever kiss someone like you."

"Oh, shut it," Cato fires dismissively. "You were the classic damsel in distress back there. You said it yourself, I was being chivalrous."

"Then you left me to fend for myself!"

"What would have been the appropriate thing to have done, then?" he barks. "I'm serious. My lover and I like to role play with these kinds of things, so I want to be prepared."

"Cato! You're _seriously_ asking me for relationship advice _now_?" Madge asks in a shrill voice, her thin eyebrows arching in dismay. Cato nods, all business.

"Yes."

They both begin to choke on the cloud of smoke that has trickled into the lobby of the office.

"I'll tell you later!" Madge shouts back, waving her arms around in the smoky haze around her.

They are standing chest to chest, nose to nose, once more.

Misconstruing the situation again, Cato tries to kiss her again. Madge smacks him and darts into the elevator.

* * *

" _Yes, I panicked, and yes, I was the first one out of the office. I've heard that women and children should be let out first, but we don't employ children—this isn't a sweat shop," Haymitch says with a chuckle as he leans against his beat up Cadillac in the parking lot._

" _And women are equals in the workplace, so if I let them out first it would be this whole feminist issue that they would have brought up anyway. It's a lose-lose. So, yeah, I chose to beat those odds by saving myself."_

* * *

Cato eventually makes it outside. Two paramedics drag him by the arms while another presses an oxygen mask to his face.

"Unhand me!" Cato's muffled cry relieves the co-workers who thought he had been seriously injured.

One of the medics rolls his eyes. Behind them, firefighters trickle out of the building. The fire had been put out for a solid twenty minutes before someone—Clove—noticed that Cato had still not evacuated the building after her third head count.

"We've gotta check your vitals, Sir. You were passed out when we found you."

"Barely," Cato grumbles, unwilling to accept his mortality.

The other medic straps a band around Cato's meaty arm and begins to take his blood pressure.

"You shouldn't have even been in the building, anyway."

Cato looks miffed.

"I am the office safety marshal!" He says this as if it authorizes him to have been in the building. The medics share a knowing look when he begins a violent coughing spell after his outburst.

"That's a volunteer position," Peeta points out.

"Yeah, way to be, Idiot," Haymitch pipes up from his perch on the hood of his car.

Cato rolls his eyes.

"Shut up, Mellark. Didn't you hear the 'medic'?" The paramedic eyes the cameras when Cato air quotes his 'profession'. "I lost consciousness for about five seconds before my body rejected the notion of death. You should feel bad for me."

Peeta jams his hands in his pockets and stares at the camera. "You know, you're right. I should feel bad that you volunteered to single-handedly fight a fire."

The cameras find Clove, who worriedly chews on her nails. She catches where the cameras are trained and acts like she isn't the least bit worried about Cato. She is unaware, however, that the previous visit between her and the safety marshal had been caught on film.

"Did you at least figure out what started the fire, like you were so determined to risk your life to do?" Clove asks, the annoyed edge in her voice easily interchangeable with concern.

A wicked smirk spreads over Cato's lips. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a charred, black oval of something that has been burnt beyond recognition. It is still smoking, and it is very clearly burning Cato's fingers. The salesman doesn't seem to mind one bit.

"Cato, put whatever that is down," Clove orders sharply.

"Apparently business school doesn't teach chivalry _or_ basic culinary skills, because some anonymous, smart, sexy temp left his turkey panini on the oven setting in the toaster oven! Recognize your lunch, Lumberjack Boy?! HAHAHAHAHAH!"

Gale looks stunned. Haymitch joins in with Cato's maniacal cackling, always wanting to be on the winning end of the joke.

"I—I am so sorry…"

But Cato, still laughing and still on his high of beating out the temp for his manager's affections for a brief victory, isn't paying Gale's apology any mind.

" _Hawthorne started the fire! It was always burning since the world's been turning!"_ Cato sings his solo victoriously. He tosses the burnt panini in Wiress' direction, and she dodges it at the last second.

Peeta, barely containing his laughter, claps along to the beat of Cato's modge-podge of syllables once he forgets the rest of the words to his rendition of the Billy Joel classic hit.

As Cato continues singing bits of his song through coughing spells, Madge eyes her boyfriend incredulously.

"I can't believe you tried to kill me like that," she says before angrily storming off. In a moment of heated, albeit unnecessary, strike back, Madge turns back around and yells, "Chivalry is dead, Gale Hawthorne! I almost had to kiss _that_ while fighting for my life in there!"

She points at Cato, who now wheezes on the ground while Peeta continues clapping and Haymitch still sings.

* * *

" _Every year, a different branch is responsible for the company's annual fundraising night. This year, the burden falls on District Twelve. I was lucky enough to_ not _be in charge last time around…but as luck would have it, here we are, and I'm in charge," Haymitch, talking in circles while literally spinning in circles with his chair, explains._

" _We have to pick a theme, decorate our warehouse, and raise enough money for the whole company to ride off of fundraising for the whole year…The system is pretty flawed. The odds are never in our favor. We're sandwiched between District Eleven and District One. Nobody expects anything from Eleven. They've consistently held up the rear and they show no signs of planning to change that. Ever. Last year, their fundraising night was held in a barn. It was barn themed. People were eating next to crapping ponies, and nobody called them out on it."_

 _Haymitch holds up a photo of two people dressed in Panem t-shirts and jeans, sitting on either side of a farmer who is milking a cow._

" _And then there's the rich yuppies of One, who go yachting and can fund the company out of their own wallets. One is notorious for making Twelve's efforts from the year before look like they may as well have thrown the fundraising event in Eleven. Their theme is always something pretentious, like_ The Great Gatsby. _Some of us didn't bother reading that trash—because some of us almost didn't finish high school—but you know, to the a-holes in One, that's considered a sin. They suck. This sucks."_

 _He holds up a photo of a woman dressed in an evening gown, linking arms with a man in an expensive-looking tuxedo at the back of an elaborately-decorated party boat. It looks like a perfectly modeled stock photo, with candid laughter and everything._

" _So, now it's our job to put on a show that's slightly nicer than Eleven to hold our place in the order, but do a good of enough job that One doesn't make a joke out of us next year."_

 _Haymitch tosses both photos over his shoulders and looks directly into the camera, distressed._

" _So you see the problem, here? Odds are not in our favor. Also, this is a huge night for me romantically."_

 _He holds up a third picture. It is a school picture of a much younger version of the woman he ran into after the Victors, Cecelia._

" _I had the biggest crush on this girl in high school. Huge. But she friend-zoned the hell outta me. I invited her tonight, and she said she would swing by the fundraiser. It's basically going to be our first date. I promised her an amazing night, and if I blow it…I can't say it on camera, but sixteen year old me—who_ loved _this picture—is gonna be upset."_

* * *

"I hope you are prepared for this evening's fundraiser, Haymitch," President of the company, Coriolanus Snow, tells the manager over the phone. His voice is extra ominous.

"Yessir, Casino Night is getting there and it's going to be…"

"Casino Night? Isn't gambling illegal in Pennsylvania?" Snow's tone insinuates that this question is one he already knows the answer to, giving Haymitch pause.

"Is it not legal for fundraising?"

Snow's sigh crackles over the speaker of Haymitch's phone. "No, it is not."

"Well, I'll be damned."

"Haymitch, let me be blunt with you. This past year has not been one of District Twelve's finest years. The scoring fiasco, drunken fights at office parties, shutting down a bar for your Victor awards…you've continually defied Corporate, and the other Districts have noticed it."

Haymitch swallows so loudly that the microphone picks up the sound of his gulping.

"Tell me, if a bumbling drunk and his ragtag team from Twelve can defy Corporate and walk away unharmed, what is to prevent any other District from doing the same? What is to prevent all sense of order in this company? These acts of rebellion can lead to the collapse of the entire system, you know."

"Must be a fragile system if it can be brought down by a Halloween party."

Snow's chuckle is low and terrifying. "With all due respect, Haymitch, now is not the time for your…colorful…sense of humor."

Haymitch clears his throat and straightens out his jacket.

"My apologies."

"We've given your District more than enough chances to redeem itself, and time and time again you have turned it into a game. Twelve continues to lag behind many of the other Districts."

"Well, to be fair, we don't have the luxuries that One has…like Kindles with _The Great Gatsby_ open on them twenty-four, seven," Haymitch gripes.

" _G_ _atsby_? Excellent novel. The point is: Your Games are over, Haymitch. One more strike, and it might just be war. A lot is riding on tonight for not just Panem, but for District Twelve, and lest you want to see it obliterated in the near future, I suggest that you avoid the funny business."

Haymitch, looking like a deer in headlights, nods. His movements are staccato as he holds onto the phone's receiver and whispers, "Yes, Sir."

"Now, shall I invite Alma to oversee the fundraiser myself, or will you be able to contact her?"

Haymitch chokes on the swig of liquor in his mouth, performing a rather comical spit-take at the mentioning of the Vice President.

"Alma?" Haymitch squeaks. "Seriously? She has to come and oversee tonight?"

"Yes…is there a problem with that, Haymitch? I thought we were in agreement that whatever shenanigans tonight had gone out the window, but I would be more comfortable with Alma present…"

"Sir, you don't understand. Alma and I…we…"

"I am aware of your history with Coin, Haymitch."

Suddenly proud of himself, Haymitch wears a surprised smile. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, I know that she was present at the Halloween party. And, of course, the dispute with the scores."

Haymitch's smile falters, as if he upset that the kiss that sparked their relationship has remained undisclosed to his President. "Right. _Business_ history."

"So, shall I call her, or…?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "No, no…um, I've got it."

"Very well. Have a splendid evening, Haymitch. And remember, you are representing something much greater than yourself tonight. District Twelve will abide by the rules. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll show them."

"No," Snow says, "Show _me_."

The line goes dead, and Haymitch shivers.

* * *

" _That guy will forever give me the creeps," Haymitch tells the cameras candidly. "I mean, did you hear him threatening us like that? Who does he think he is, telling me how to coach my team, play my game? Well, yeah...he's the President. Technicality. And now I have to invite my ex-girlfriend to my first date with my current girlfriend?"_

 _Haymitch bangs his head on the table and groans._

" _Guess first thing's first," he grumbles. "We've gotta come up with a safer theme."_

* * *

"There she is, my little four-leaf Clove-r," Haymitch greets the accountant as he sidles up to the accounting desk-clump. Clove rolls her eyes, but does not look up from her work.

"Gee, I've never heard that one before."

Haymitch laughs nervously.

"How are things going with the CAREERS and the party?"

At the mentioning of her task force, Clove finally looks up, her eyes wild.

"What did Wiress mess up now?"

"I'm right here, you know. I can hear you," Wiress says from the adjacent desk-clump, wounded.

Haymitch holds up his palms defensively, and the small girl with the menacing scowl backs off slightly.

"No one messed up anything, but we do need to discuss a small matter."

Clove's eyes narrow. "How small?"

Haymitch glances at the cameras as if he is walking into his own death before he sighs and begins to speak to the head of the CAREERS.

"How difficult would it be to…uh…change the theme of the fundraiser?"

"Extremely. Everything's been ordered, decorations are already being set up as they come in…I mean, it's the day of the event. It would be virtually impossible…"

"What if we _need_ to change the theme of the fundraiser?" Haymitch says, the volume of his voice diminishing greatly with each syllable uttered.

Wordlessly, Clove excuses herself and quickly patters over to the women's bathroom. The cameras follow her to the break room, where they watch the mousy young woman enter through the swinging door of the restroom. Before the door can close, a bloodcurdling scream echoes throughout the office.

* * *

"So, yes, that's how it is looking. Your branch is the third of the four branches I oversee, so thank you for inquiring about that," Coin's tired voice says over the phone.

She is about to sign off when Haymitch speaks up.

"Oh, actually, while I have you—not that I have you, nor will I ever have you...you know... _in that way_ —the company fundraiser is being hosted by us tonight. Was originally a Casino Night, but gambling is illegal, apparently for fundraisers. So, my party planning committee figured out a way to switch things around and turn it into a 1920's Jazz Club-slash-speakeasy sort of thing. You know, gets rid of the, er, funny business…"

"No funny business? That's new," Alma's voice deadpans, sounding utterly unconvinced.

Haymitch's eyebrows arch in amusement when he realizes that she is not in the same loop he and Snow are in.

"Come on, Alma. I can hear it in your voice. You sound like you need a break. The gang would probably love it if you came," he says, tacking on an additional 'That's what she said' to the end of his plea.

There is a long pause on the other end of the line. Haymitch can be seen staring longingly (and creepily) at the school picture he still has of Cecelia Mendez.

"I mean…you don't _have_ to come if you don't…"

"No, I'll be there," Coin says sharply. Haymitch does not hide his disappointment. "I need to see this 'no funny business' thing for myself."

She hangs up before the manager can get a word in edgewise.

"Both of my women in one room…I need a drink," he mumbles to himself. "It may not be Casino Night, but it's looking like the odds are in favor of me getting laid by _someone_ tonight."

* * *

"Alright, everyone, gather 'round!" Haymitch slurs from where he is seated comfortably on Katniss' reception desk counter, feet dangling childishly in front of him as he surveys his kingdom.

"As you all know, tonight is our company fundraiser event. We've been working hard on coming up with an evening that will get our community excited about coal-powered electric and investing in Panem—some of us working harder than others. Thank you Clove…for, uh, adjusting our theme…"

The head of the CAREERS, looking far more strung out than she had earlier, mutters a slew of indistinguishable words of hatred as she glowers in the back.

"But, to show Corporate and the other Districts how strong, how _deserving_ we are to be the best branch out there, I've come up with another twist!"

Clove throws her hands up in the air, completely surrendering.

"The event is _tonight_! No more twists!"

"Even you'll like this one, Munchkin," Haymitch chides. "We're going to raise money for charity! For every dollar Panem makes tonight, we will donate twenty-five cents to the winning charity."

The response to this idea, which Haymitch is extremely proud of due to its being the antithesis of 'funny business', is lackluster.

"That's so…boring," Caesar says finally, speaking on behalf of everyone. "What happened to Casino night, and free drinks and gambling and _fun_?"

"Tonight isn't about fun. You want to have fun, transfer to District One and go putz around on their boats."

"I just might," Caesar says with a pout.

"Shut your big beak up, Toucan Sam," Haymitch hisses. "This is how it's gonna go, people: We will all be working at different stations throughout the night to keep things running, and whoever's station has the most money raised for Panem will get to choose the organization _and_ win a free shower buddy."

"No way! The shower controller that makes your water smell like flowers?" Gale, surprisingly, pipes up.

"Yeah, but the important part is the charity. For example, if I win, the money is going to Kamikaze Kids."

Katniss crinkles her nose in her seat behind Haymitch. "The organization that trains twelve to eighteen-year-olds in borderline illegal combat?"

Peeta sucks in a sharp breath. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that lawsuit a few years ago shut those guys down."

"Aw, really? I had my future children signed up!" Cato whines.

Clove is suddenly regaining color in her cheeks once more at her boss' sudden agreement to see parties the way she sees them: organized and without fun.

"Registered and non-profit, people. Report to Katniss with your charity of choice at 1130 hours," she says sharply. The crowd starts to disperse, and Haymitch and Clove share a smile in their moment of victory.

* * *

" _I know of this great little soup kitchen downtown…excellent clam chowder on Thursdays. I'll probably donate the money there," Sae says when asked what her choice of charity will be._

* * *

" _Probably to a scholarship fund for college students with deceased parents," Katniss says when asked the same question. "I dropped out of school when my dad died, and I never got to go back. I don't want someone else to have to just quit and, I dunno, become something they don't want to get stuck being. Like a receptionist."_

* * *

" _Something with animals," Caesar says slowly. Thinking about his answer a bit more, he decides to amend it. "Or people. Perhaps there is a charity with people I can look into."_

* * *

" _I don't understand the word 'charity', if we're being totally honest here," Madge says with a small giggle. "I mean, I know what it is…I just have never really been able to wrap my head around the concept of it. It's, like, a good thing, right?"_

* * *

"And another thing!" Haymitch adds as he hops off of the reception desk, sending the papers that were lodged under his bottom flying out of Katniss' reach. "We're going to present the check with the final amount raised for the evening to a group of Allentown's finest youth! Right, Effie?"

The HR rep nervously twiddles her thumbs, which are painted bright blue to match the new hair color she is sporting.

"Actually, Haymitch, I thought it rather inappropriate to have children at a speakeasy. There's drinking and scandalous clothing and possible gambling. It's also a school night, and you got the Hob to cater. The odds just aren't in the children's favor, there…"

Haymitch, straight-faced and having none of what Effie proposes, says, "Why are you the way that you are? Every time I try to do something fun, or exciting, you make it not that way. I hate…so much about the things that you choose to be."

Effie simply makes a 'tsk, tsk' sound and retreats back to the annex.

"You know, I changed my mind. My charity is not going to Kamikaze Kids, since that doesn't exist…it's going to go to sommeliers in Africa," Haymitch declares.

"Nope, you mean Somalis," Peeta corrects him.

"No, that's a Mexican dish."

"That's tamales," Katniss chimes in.

"No, that's a type of candy. I mean sommeliers."

"So, wait…I'm confused. You want to donate your charity winnings to wine-tasters in Africa?" Wiress asks, clarifying for everyone.

"No, the _people_. They probably don't drink wine." Haymitch is beginning to short fuse.

"The sommeliers need us, guys," Peeta says with a grin.

"Okay, you know what, that's not funny. Malaria isn't funny…believe me, I've tried to make that joke before and it's still too soon. Probably won't be funny until we've found a cure. Maybe we can do that tonight! Can I change to donating for malaria for sommeliers?"

Cinna buries his head in his hands, regretting ever paying attention to this conversation.

* * *

"Will you wear this?" Madge asks Katniss, holding out one of her father's election pins to the receptionist.

Katniss bites her lip, looking up from a box of DVDs that has been resting on her desk. "I don't know, Madge. I'm not really well-versed in politics…"

"Well, the election is coming up, faster than you know it. My father—Undersee 2016!—could really use the young people's vote. Tonight would be the perfect night for you to wear it, with the publicity surrounding the event and all. Plus, the candidate's daughter should at least pretend that she has the support of the workplace. I mean, Gale bleeds democrat and he's wearing one."

Waving lamely from the copier, Gale half-cheers, "Undersee 2016!"

Before Katniss can say anything else, the pin has been secured to the collar of her shirt and Madge has placed a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek, leaving behind remnants of strawberry-scented lip gloss.

Once she is out of sight, Peeta replaces Madge where she had been standing.

"What is this, Everdeen?" he inquires, reaching into the box and pulling out one of the clear DVD cases. "Here Comes the Jive?"

Katniss looks slightly embarrassed to be admitting this, but she tells him that they are DVDs of possible wedding bands and DJs.

"Darius was supposed to pick the entertainment…but with the new date being this summer he's focused entirely on the bachelor party."

She tries to put the box under her desk, but Peeta's hand reaches out to stop her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Putting them away so I can get back to work..."

"No way," Peeta says, shaking his head. "We're watching these. Think of all the circus rejects, college theater majors, and dreamers you'll be letting down if you don't at least watch _some_ of them."

She beams. Silently, they grab the box and rush to the conference room.

* * *

" _I'm pretty happy these days. I'm getting married this summer. And I'm getting along with everybody at work, which is an added bonus," Katniss says with a happy shrug. 'I'm really happy."_

* * *

The two friends can be seen from outside the conference room cracking jokes, laughing so hard that they cry, and continually looking at each other while the other isn't looking.

One DVD features DJ C-Flick, containing old footage of none other than Caesar Flickerman himself. The odd accountant's reel is from earlier years, as he dons a yarmulke and rallies pre-teens into a game of musical chairs at a Bat Mitzvah, has Katniss and Peeta laughing for five minutes straight.

"I can't feel my sides anymore, that's how hard I've been laughing," Katniss says through her tears. Peeta, still in stitches, can only make out a nod and a strangled noise before another fit of laughs takes over.

"These are amazing. I hope you pick none of these, but they're amazing."

Katniss smiles. "Hey, uh…I also have to look at things, like flower arrangements, boring stuff that isn't Darius' job. Want to help me?"

She looks hesitant to have even posed the question, but Peeta nods eagerly.

"Let's do this."

* * *

" _Why did I agree to help her with planning her wedding to another guy?" Peeta asks the question the crew has asked him again. He sighs, looking everywhere but at the cameras._

" _Between you and I, I spoke with Alma last week about transferring. There's an opening and a possible promotion over at District Four in Connecticut. I'd be out of here by the end of the quarter."_

 _The director of the documentary asks him why he wants to leave. Peeta looks shocked that she even has to ask._

" _Why?" he asks, incredulous. "Because…well, you know. There's no future for me here._

* * *

Cato stuns everyone in the office when he walks out of the men's bathroom wearing an authentic flapper dress.

Peeta, who was in the middle of leaving the conference room to go to the men's room, takes one look at Cato Hadley in a flapper dress and walks right back to where he came from. He returns with Katniss moments later, each of them fighting back hysterics.

"You look like Daisy from _The Great Gatsby,_ Cato!" Wiress observes jubilantly.

"(Beep) that stupid book," Haymitch grumbles, earning a high five from Johanna.

"Can I ask why you are wearing the dress, though, Cato?" Beetee says, eyeing him with concern from over his glasses. "Tell me you are at least aware that it is a dress on your person."

Cato huffs and crosses his broad arms over his largely exposed chest.

"Of course I'm aware! It was a mix-up. I just…I know that the whole theme change was difficult, is all, so I called up someone I know who runs a speakeasy downtown and asked him to send me some flapper _dress—_ you know, like a suit or something. To make it look more authentic and be in costume. Didn't realize I'd get sent an _actual dress_."

Clove, a bemused smile gracing her taut lips, smiles at the secretly romantic gesture.

"You know what a flapper is, though, don't you?" Beetee pries, still genuinely concerned.

"Well, I do now!" Cato growls, forcing the older man to back off.

"Did you even read _The Great Gatsby_?" Wiress asks.

Haymitch cusses to himself before exclaiming, "DAMNIT what is the big deal with that book?"

"It is a timeless classic in the archives of American literature," Caesar answers. He then dodges a pencil being thrown at his head by his manager.

"Are you gonna change back into your normal clothes?" Johanna asks, nose crinkled in disgust. "You're showing a little too much leg in that thing, Hadley."

Cato swivels his hips, and the beaded tassels of the dress slap noisily against his thighs. This elicits a giggle from Clove, which makes Cato blush.

"Eh, it's actually pretty comfortable. The fabric is really breathable. No wonder you ladies wear these dress things regularly."

He sits back in his desk and resumes working as if nothing has changed at all. Soon, everyone realizes that Cato plans on wearing his flapper dress for the rest of the day, regardless of what they think, and returns to their respective posts in the office.

The cameras catch Clove lingering behind him, smiling warmly in Cato's direction.

* * *

Cecelia Mendez enters the warehouse-turned-speakeasy as the event buzzes with life. The sounds of swing music, clinking glasses, and excited chatter can be heard all around. Local residents from all over the area have shown up to dance, drink, and donate their money to Panem.

Scattered around the warehouse are Panem employees, dressed in their finest attire and manning various 20's themed booths. Peeta bartends. Madge, Gale, and Johanna are all servers. Caesar and Boggs work the DJ stand. Katniss and Darius run a photo booth. Beetee and Wiress show off historical artifacts. Cinna reads his magazine by the dance floor.

Haymitch, dressed in a top hat and tapping his feet while shouting that he feels like Fred Astaire, spots her from across the room.

Cato, still clad in his dress, reaches the manager before his high school acquaintance can.

"Codename Seamtown High has landed on the premises. Still no sign of Grey's Anatomy," Cato whispers harshly into Haymitch's ear.

* * *

" _I'm Haymitch's wingman—or woman, depending on how you want to interpret my attire—for the night. Two dates, one man. It's a love triangle no one knew they wanted but somehow got," Cato tells the cameras, eyes gleaming with excitement._

" _My job is to keep Coin away from Cecelia and vice versa. Haymitch put it this way: deception is the highest form of honor." He swivels his hips again, chuckling as the beaded dress moves with him. "That's never going to get old."_

* * *

"You made it!" Haymitch shouts over the noise.

The woman nods enthusiastically, taking in the scene of the speakeasy.

"Of course! I had to get a sitter for my kids because my ex is out of town, but I'm really glad I could get here!"

Cecelia flashes him a brilliant smile. She opens her arms for a hug, and Haymitch takes this as an invitation to go in for a kiss. When he notes how taken aback she looks at the last possible second, he ends up half kissing her lips and half kissing her cheek.

There is an uncomfortable silence between them.

"Just greeting you Panem style!" Haymitch bellows nervously before performing the same routine on the other cheek.

Johanna, sporting a feather headband and a long cigarette holder, is walking by. Haymitch, trying to prove that he was not acting insane, makes matters even more uncomfortable when he grabs Johanna and half-kisses her on both cheeks.

Johanna cries out in disgust and runs away.

Again, in a room filled with noise, Haymitch manages to dredge up palpable silence with Cecelia.

He coughs and tips his Fred Astaire top hat her way. "Would the lady care for a drink?"

Cecelia laughs. "You know me all too well, Haymitch. A drink would be great!"

"You still an appletini drinker, Mendez?"

"Yes, I am! You still gonna be ruthless to me about liking appletinis, Abernathy?"

"Yes, I am! It's a weak drink, and you know it."

Cecelia winks as she walks past Haymitch, toward the bar.

"I save the hard stuff for later," she whispers seductively, traces of a slight accent emerging in the rolled 'r' in 'later'.

* * *

" _Holy (beeeeeep)," is Haymitch's only response to Cecelia's forwardness._

* * *

The cameras decide to follow Greasy Sae for a while when they notice that she has been strangely active all evening. Upon closer inspection, the cameras discover that she is pick-pocketing random guests and co-workers, followed by disposing of the money she collects in her respective jar.

* * *

" _Oh, yes_ _, I steal. I've stolen a lot of things. I stole the box I lived in for three years when I was couch surfing in the sixties, and I've been stealing ever since," Sae confesses. She chuckles, showing off her gnarly set of teeth. "I'm actually pretty good at it! I make more money doing this than I do at my actual job!"_

* * *

Haymitch decides to say a few welcoming words to his guests.

"Welcome, welcome! So glad you all could make it out here tonight for The Seventy-Second Annual Panem Fundraising Night! Or as I like to call it, Kiss-Ass Fest 2016!"

The joke is not understood, and therefore is met with confused, ill-received silence.

"Tonight, we invite you to travel back in time to the 1920's, where alcohol was illegal and that dick Gatsby threw great parties, according to Sparknotes. Leave all of your worries at the door and dance them away! But, if you feel any urge to do something stupid, please leave the building immediately. I'm serious, tonight isn't about fun, it's about FUNDS."

He abandons the microphone and joins Cecelia at the bar as a weak applause follows the speech that took a strangely cryptic turn at the end.

* * *

"So, at what point are you going to take your shirt off and wear it as a hat, because I'm kind of looking forward to that part of the night—ooh, or you could take over the DJ stand! What's it gonna be, huh, Crazy Haymitch?" Cecelia teases as she nudges him.

She is a strong, loud-mouthed woman, and she oozes sensuality as she speaks. Her flirtatious gesture practically throws Haymitch out of his chair.

Mixing a drink from behind the counter, Peeta watches and looks as though he is about to be sick.

Haymitch laughs nervously. He knows that Cecelia expects the two of them to get wildly drunk this evening, but he knows that he must have a disaster-free night in order to keep Twelve afloat.

"Ah, I don't know if that's gonna happen tonight, Cece," he says, using her old high school nickname. Cecelia looks confused. "I'm running the show here, so I've got to keep everyone in line…believe me, if my job weren't involved, I'd be the life of the party."

Cecelia looks bummed before nodding her head. She, as opposed to Haymitch, is already pretty drunk.

"Oh, I understand," she says sullenly. "I just thought that when you invited me to this, it would be just like high school…'cept with a different ending than most of those parties we got trashed at."

"Different ending?"

"We'd get to actually go home together," she spells out for him.

Haymitch, growing desperate, tries to think of a quick save.

He beckons Peeta over from the end of the bar. Dressed as a saloon-owner, Peeta serves two paying customers before slowly wandering over to where Haymitch waves emphatically.

"You hit your drink limit before the doors opened, Haymitch," Peeta tells his boss plainly as he cleans off a glass with a rag.

Haymitch narrows his eyes.

"Another appletini for the lady," he says in his most fake old-timey accent.

Peeta eyes the camera wearily. "I mean, Haymitch…she hit her limit too…According to Clove's itinerary I have to shut the bar down soon, anyway…"

"Just do it," he hisses vehemently, careful as to not let Cecelia hear how he has to haggle with his employee for a drink.

Peeta purses his lips.

"You're lucky I don't care enough about this event…" he grumbles as he places the ingredients for an appletini on the counter.

Cato chooses that moment to swoop in. He kisses Haymitch on both of his cheeks before leaning in and whispering, "Alma's here!"

"(Beep)."

Coin is dressed in a shade of gray that almost resembles blue this evening. The dress is actually quite flattering to her figure. The Vice President and Cato give each other's dresses a once over after he literally bumps into her.

"Vice President! Good to see you! Want a tour of the speakeasy? I'll show you around," Cato says hastily. Coin has already spotted the back of Haymitch's head as it nods intently at the story Cecelia is telling him.

"No, uh…that's alright. I was just going to say hello to…"

"Katniss? She's over by the photo booth. I can take you over there now…" Cato's voice trails off, however, when he notices something over in the direction of the photo booth.

One of the warehouse workers, Homes, has clearly found a way to surpass the drink limit. He is speaking very closely to Clove's ear, and as he tries to lay his hands on her arms and backside, Clove fights him off with her clipboard.

The cameras return to Cato, who practically has steam coming out of his nose, that's how enraged he is. Without giving his job as wingman so much as a second thought, he stalks toward the front of the warehouse.

Haymitch spins around just in time to notice this and flies out of his seat.

"Cato, do _not_ beat up that warehouse worker. I swear…"

With both men gone, Coin has the perfect opportunity to wander to the bar and seat herself beside Haymitch's mystery woman.

"I'll take a Cosmopolitan, please, Peeta," Coin says professionally, her demeanor a stark contrast to the lively woman beside her, who drunkenly sings along to 'The Way You Look Tonight'.

Coin smiles to herself before exchanging introductions with Cecelia.

"Hi, I'm Vice President of the company, Alma Coin."

Cecelia beams. "Oh, yeah! I've heard about you! I'm Cecelia Mendez, with Avox Real Estate—'Deals made so easy they're silent'—hahaha!"

She downs the rest of her appletini in stride, screaming the rest of the Sinatra ballad as if she were at a rock concert.

"So, how did you end up at a coal-powered electric company's fundraising night?" Coin asks.

Cecelia giggles. "I'm sorta on my first date with this guy I used to have a _huge_ crush on in high school."

"How?" Peeta asks skeptically. He seems to think that Cecelia is far out of Haymitch's league, even for when they were younger. Both women send him a pointed look, however, and he scrambles over to the other end of the bar.

Cecelia smiles and continues. "He's the manager of this branch. Do you know him? Haymitch Abernathy?"

Coin is stunned. She laughs mirthlessly. "Oh, yeah. I know him. So you two are on a…date…tonight? Speakeasy in his warehouse…way to go, Old Sport."

"Yup! He got me free drinks and everything!" Cecelia, oblivious to Coin's sarcasm, adds. "That's awesome that you drove over two hours just to oversee this event. You must be a really cool boss."

Looking extremely uncomfortable, and even a bit upset, Alma brusquely takes a large sip of her Cosmo. It is evident, given the previous conversation she had with Haymitch earlier that day, that she was unaware of the fact that she was only invited here to 'oversee'.

"Well, that's…it's all part of my job. I'm just here to do my job," Coin says bitterly.

* * *

"Babe, I was talking to Boggs, and get this: Caesar Flickerman used to DJ Bat Mitzvahs. He's pretty desperate to get back into the entertainment scene, so he told Boggs he would DJ our wedding for virtually nothing," Darius explains excitedly to his fiancée.

Katniss, collecting dollar bills from a college-aged couple that is about to go into the photo booth, forces a fake look of excitement onto her face to match Darius' energy.

"Oh, wow! Really? I thought we wanted a, uh, live band though?" Katniss says, holding back the curtain for the giggling couple to enter the photo booth. Darius shrugs.

"Whatever. I was in charge of the music. Plus, I already talked to Caesar and told him he was hired, so we kinda have to do it."

Katniss' disappointment is evident. She glances at Caesar, who will be known at her wedding as 'DJ C-Flick'. Dancing like a lame uncle at a party, he fumbles with a stack of CDs before dropping them all at the DJ stand.

"Okay. Great."

Darius kisses her cheek. "Awesome, Babe. I'm gonna go sneak some drinks off of Mellark with the guys…want anything?"

"No, it's fine. Go ahead. I'll keep watching over the booth."

He leaves, and the cameras watch as Katniss blinks back her disappointment.

* * *

" _HAHAHAHAHA, I AM BACK, BABY!" Caesar shouts victoriously to the cameras concerning his new gig at the wedding. He reaches into his money jar and throws a handful of bills into the air. They rain around him as he cackles some more._

* * *

"Cato, don't be an idiot. Don't you mess this night up—Cato!"

Haymitch is too slow for his salesman, however, and Cato reaches Homes and Clove before Haymitch can grab hold of him. Noticing that the two women he has tried to avoid getting too close to each other having a conversation, Haymitch grabs fistfuls of his hair and darts back to the bar.

"I don't think the lady appreciates your advances, heathen," Cato tells Homes bluntly. The intoxicated warehouse worker laughs as he teeters back on his heels.

"I think _the lady_ can speak for herself."

"Let me ask you, what kind of a rile are you trying to start up in my house, anyway?" Cato asks. His words are not his own. They are borrowed from _The Great Gatsby's_ Tom Buchanan, a character Homes does not seem too familiar with.

"He's not starting any _rile_ , Cato. You are. Please have a little self-control," Clove says through clenched teeth, also mirroring the dialogue from _The Great Gatsby_. Standing an entire head shorter than both men, she appears to be the most menacing of all from her place between them.

"Self-control? I'm not gonna let this sleezebag hit on you," Cato screeches. "Get out of here, Homes."

"Who are you to tell me what to do? Her boyfriend?"

"No!" both Cato and Clove shout out at the same time.

"You're crazy, Hadley!"

Cato smiles, and the cameras watch as his hand sneakily finds the small of Clove's back.

"No, Old Sport, _you're_ crazy."

Homes rolls his eyes. Cato's complications in the matter have made the pursuit of Clove no longer worth it for him.

"Whatever."

He stomps off, and Cato looks almost too pleasantly surprised with himself.

"That was awesome! I should quote _Gatsby_ more often!" he cheers before he plants a kiss on Clove's lips in the excitement. The small girl's eyes widen before she smacks him across the face and storms off in a different direction.

The cameras watch as both Cato and Clove's stunned expressions melt into twisted smiles.

* * *

"DJ C-Flick, huh? I think you just made that man's year."

Katniss rolls her eyes. "I can't wait to play musical chairs at my wedding. Guess this is what I get for putting Darius in charge of the entertainment."

Peeta laughs softly. He has cut in line for the photo booth to speak to the woman running it, and several drunk patrons behind him have started to moan in protest.

Knowing that she needs some cheering up, Peeta glances over his shoulder at the long line and smirks.

"Wanna piss everyone off and go take ridiculous photos for free?" he asks, gesturing to the vacant booth behind her. Katniss' frown dissipates immediately.

"Oh my God, yes."

Laughing to themselves, they disappear behind the curtain as the line erupts in angry jeers. The cameras watch two pairs of feet under the curtain and listen to the muffled sounds of joking and laughter as the flash in the booth goes off four times.

* * *

 _Holding up his photo strip, a series of four photos—one goofy, one mock-serious, one impersonating Cato, and one of the two of them smiling—Peeta sighs._

" _This is what I lose if I leave. But this is also why I have to leave."_

* * *

"Girls, girls, girls, how are we doing tonight?" Haymitch says as he swoops in and wraps his arms around both Cecelia and Coin's shoulders. Alma shrugs him off while Cecelia burrows into his chest.

Eyes ablaze, Coin whirs around in her seat to stare at the branch manager with contempt.

"You invited me to this thing and failed to tell me that I was only here to _oversee_ the event, Haymitch?"

Cecelia blinks in confusion. "Wait. Did _you_ think that you were on a date with Haymitch?"

The drunk man glances at the cameras, searching for help of any kind, but it is clear that he is on his own now.

"We're all adults here, ladies," Haymitch says, altering his voice to sound like a father trying to calm his two fighting daughters. "Alma, it has always been my understanding that our relationship was not set in stone. I invited Cecelia to come to the event long before you were invited—yes, Snow did ask me to invite you, but I wanted you to come before that, anyway, since you didn't come to the Victors—I don't think that I did anything wrong."

Both women look dumbfounded for a while. Drunkenly swaying, Cecelia has to grip onto Haymitch for support, and the two of them cannot help but laugh. Watching all of this, Coin clears her throat to speak.

"I knew Snow sent me here, Haymitch," she says, clearly lying. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She wanders off to find Cato, asking him to finally give her that tour of the warehouse that he promised. Cecelia smiles and asks Haymitch for another drink.

* * *

Coin is smoking outside of the warehouse when Peeta comes out for some air.

"Are you enjoying yourself at this prohibition-era extravaganza?" Peeta asks the Vice President as he wanders over to her. They both laugh, knowing and acerbic. "Looks like we raised a lot of money, though, which is good."

"That's excellent, Peeta," she says. "This will be good for the company."

They are silent for a while. Coin takes another long drag from her cigarette while Peeta leans against the wall.

"I drove almost three hours to get here tonight…I'm not even dressed appropriately. My dress barely passes for 1950's. Doesn't matter, I guess. Overseer of events hardly has to worry about _appearance_."

"I think you look lovely," Peeta offers.

Coin shakes her head as she throws her cigarette on the ground and rubs the heel of her shoe into the blacktop.

"Why did I kiss Haymitch?" she asks aloud. Peeta, put in an extremely uncomfortable place in which he is unsure of what his next move should be, shrugs and volleys the question back at her.

"Yeah, why did you?" he says, looking into the cameras that watch their conversation from a safe distance.

"I was just finishing up my divorce, Peeta. It was late, and we had both been drinking—which was out of the ordinary for at least _one_ of us—uh…"

She deflects the rest of her answer by changing the subject.

"I approved your transfer request, by the way."

"Really? Thank you, Alma," Peeta says, surprised.

"Have you given it any more thought?"

The cameras watch Peeta's thumb run over the photo strip that sticks out of his pocket.

"I have, yeah."

"Good, and have you told anyone?"

Peeta shakes his head. "No."

"You should talk to someone about it. Someone you can trust. Someone who won't lie to you and has your best interests in mind," she tells him. Peeta nods, listening to her advice.

"So, not Haymitch then?" he jokes. He immediately shrinks back, given Coin's earlier confession, but to his surprise, she bursts into laughter.

"Definitely not Haymitch."

* * *

"We are practically oozing with tips, guys!" Johanna says proudly as she counts her money with Gale and Madge. "Shame we have to give it all away to charity. I live with my brother and my stupid nephew…that should be enough of a cause to let me keep this cash."

Madge shakes her head as she pockets her earnings. Gale watches her as if she has just taken candy from a baby—which she may as well just have done.

"What are you doing, Madge?"

"Damn, Blondie, even _I'm_ not that heartless," Johanna adds, putting the chunk of her tips that she was planning to stuff in her purse back on the bar counter.

Gale is still glaring at his girlfriend.

"Oh, don't act so high and mighty…just because you grew up poor and have a guilty conscience about it now, Gale. You're the one who almost burned this place down and left me to die yesterday. This is the first time I've ever earned money I worked for."

"Not your regular job?" Gale asks, beginning to fume. Madge shrugs.

"I don't work for that. Besides, no one at my regular job tells me how pretty I am—not even my _boyfriend who is supposed to do that_ tells me how pretty I am!"

"Well, Jeez, Madge, you tell me what to do with literally everything else! Why didn't you just _force_ me to tell you how pretty you are!?"

"Because I shouldn't have to tell you to tell me!" Madge shrieks.

Having had enough of her harping, Gale yanks the money out of her hands and puts it back on the table. Madge looks stunned. Johanna lets out a low whistle.

"Oh my God, I didn't realize you were that serious. Fine, I'll give the money to the poor people."

Gale huffs. In a moment of final defense, he rips the Undersee 2016 pin from his lapel and throws it on the floor. Madge cries out.

"It's not just about the money. It's about the fact that I'm not even a Republican, Madge, but you wouldn't know because you've been using me as your puppet for _months_! I'm done with this (beeping)(beep)."

"Language! What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we're done. We're through. It's the first choice I've gotten to make in this relationship, and it's one I should have made a while ago."

Madge's lower lip quivers before she rushes off in a fit of hysterical tears.

Gale simmers while Johanna collects the tip money to bring to Effie at the collection desk.

She is about to leave, but not before putting another offer on the table.

"So, Lumberjack Boy, what's your stance on 'anger bangs'…?"

"Get out, Johanna."

* * *

Greasy Sae, in a moment that is shocking to everyone besides herself and the crew, is announced the winner of the Shower Buddy by Effie Trinket.

Sae accepts her prize as the room cheers for her.

When Effie asks if she would like to say a few words, Sae leans into the microphone and says, "Thank you. I don't have a shower, but once I rewire this thing and use it to get my television working, it'll be a real special moment for me. Sae out, suckers!"

She runs off with her winnings with a speed no one knew the old woman was capable of.

* * *

The cameras watch as Gale slowly walks up behind where Madge sits alone at the vacated bar.

What is said between them goes unheard over the music, but Gale opens his jacket pocket to reveal that he has replaced the button with another. Madge wraps her arms around him and kisses him for a long while.

Peeta, still cleaning glasses, watches the two of them longingly.

* * *

"I'm sorry I have to bail so early, Babe, but I am just _beat_ ," Darius says, leaning out of the window of his truck. Katniss, standing on her tiptoes by the window, shakes her head.

"It's fine. I'll see you at home."

They exchange a quick kiss before Katniss starts to walk back to the warehouse. Darius calls out her name.

"Yeah?"

"Love you!"

She smiles, the gemstones on her bright red dress catching the light under the streetlamp that illuminates her.

"I know."

His truck pulls out of the lot, revealing Peeta, who has been waiting for what appears to be a while for her to emerge.

"Hey!" she says enthusiastically.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Oh, great. Especially after outshining you in all of those photos we took."

He laughs, but there is an obvious pain in it.

"Haha, yeah…" Peeta shifts his weight from one foot to another nervously. "Hey, uh, can I talk to you about something?"

Katniss smirks. "About how _good_ Cato looks in that dress? I mean, maybe it's the alcohol or just the fact that he's been wearing it for almost twelve hours, but I'm starting to think he would be a beautiful drag queen…"

"Katniss, I was just…um…" Peeta, never someone who is at loss for words, continues to try and articulate his many thoughts. Katniss notices how out of character he is acting and stiffens.

"Peeta?"

"I'm in love with you," he blurts out.

Her smile evaporates and is replaced by a look of total shock.

"What?"

Peeta fights through his hurt from her reaction and continues. "I'm sorry if that's weird for you to hear, but I needed you to hear it. This isn't good timing, I know, but I just…"

"What are you doing?" Katniss cuts him off. He gives her a look that seems to insinuate that she must have known this confession was a long time coming. Still, she holds her ground. "What do you expect me to say to that?"

"I just needed you to know, Katniss. Once and for all," Peeta says softly.

Now, Katniss is at a loss for words.

"Well, I—uhm, I…I can't," she whispers. Peeta's eyes fill with tears. He hangs his head.

"Yeah."

Pain in her softened features, Katniss reaches out to touch his shoulder. He pulls away and her face crumples a bit more.

"Peeta, you have no idea how—"

"Don't do that," Peeta, voice thick with emotion, says.

"—what your friendship means to me."

"Come on, Katniss. I don't want that. I don't want to be your friend. I want more than that."

He waits with bated breath for her to say something.

"I can't," she repeats. "I'm so sorry…if you misinterpreted everything."

A tear slides freely down his cheek, and she fights off tears of her own.

"This is probably my fault, Peeta…"

He shakes his head. "It's not your fault. It's all me. I'm sorry I misinterpreted our friendship."

Walking away while he still has some shred of himself left, Peeta leaves Katniss alone in the parking lot. She smooths out her red dress and wrings her hands together nervously, and the cameras watch her tears begin to cascade from her eyes.

* * *

"Well, Haymitch. Congratulations on a surprisingly disaster-less evening," Coin addresses the manager and the woman who hangs onto him cordially. "I'm heading off now."

"Oh, well, thanks for coming!" Haymitch says, awkward smile toying on his lips while Cecelia squeezes his bicep.

"I had to be here," Coin says, her jab passive aggressive. "You were right, though. I needed this. Cecelia, it was nice to meet you. Have a nice evening, you two."

"Thank you, Alamo!" Cecelia calls after the woman who hastily makes her exit. Turning back to Haymitch, she kisses both of his cheeks before placing a surprise kiss on his lips.

"Now, where were we?"

* * *

" _So, in the end, I came out the hero. Who saw that coming? Not me," Haymitch candidly tells the cameras in a private interview when asked how he thought the night went. "Saved the world_ and _got the girl—got both girls, actually. I'm glad that Alma is happy for me. Life is good."_

* * *

The cameras follow Alma to her car. They watch as she angrily flings her car door open and collapses into her driver's seat. She shoves an overnight bag into the backseat of her car before speeding out of the parking lot.

* * *

"It happened about twenty minutes ago, Prim," Katniss whispers over the phone at Peeta's desk to her sister. The crew films from the darkened break room.

"I didn't know what to say, so no…I know, Prim, I know…he's my best friend…yeah, he's amazing…yeah, I think I am," her voice shifts from terrified, to unsure, to warm and giddy throughout her end of the conversation.

Peeta emerges moments later.

"Prim, I've gotta go. I will," Katniss says hastily as she hangs up the phone. Turning back to Peeta, she begins to breathe heavily.

"Peeta, I…"

He cuts her off with a slow, tender kiss. She begins to reciprocate, her hands finding their way into his mussed blonde curls. When they pull apart, faces flushed and breaths hitching, they stare into each other's eyes.

"I've wanted to do that forever," he admits with a smile as he takes her hands and clasps them tightly in his own.

"Me too," she admits softly, her gray eyes a surge of unreadable emotion. "But the closer it gets to my wedding date, the more confused I get."

"So, what happens next?"

"I guess we should just try to forget."

Peeta shakes his head. "I don't want to forget, do you?"

Still staring at him, Katniss shakes her head.

When he goes in to kiss her again, she places her hands on his chest to resist him.

"Peeta…"

His eyes flash with hurt.

"You're really gonna marry him?" he asks disbelievingly. She nods, her lips twitching in sympathy. The cameras zoom in on their intertwined hands as Peeta unlaces them. She takes a step as if to catch her balance.

"Well, let me know when you work it out, then. I'll see you around, Katniss," Peeta says as he walks out of the office.

 **End of Year One.**

* * *

 **A/N: So there you have it, folks! This was one of my favorite chapters to write thus far. Some of the parallels, such as Gale being blamed for the fire and leaving Madge behind, or the conversation at the end between Peeta and Katniss, or Snow's warnings about rebellion, translated over in a really cool way from THG, so I hope you found those moments, as well as the others, interesting and amusing!**

 **Stay tuned for Year Two! New characters will be introduced, new antics will go down, and new relationships will unfold! In the meantime, review, favorite, follow, and just keep being wonderful! Thanks!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	6. Year Two: Feast

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both The Hunger Games and The Office (US) belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 2, Episode 1: Feast**

Cato rips the last piece of lint from his sweater and places it in a neat pile on his desk. No longer wanting to have a pile of lint cluttering his space, he brushes it over to the next desk.

The cameras pan over. Instead of revealing the traditional helpless look of Peeta Mellark, Gale Hawthorne sits and glowers in the lint storm.

From the receptionist's desk, Katniss watches, unamused.

* * *

" _Yeah, I got Peeta's old job when he left, and I'm not a temp anymore. Now, I can go home for the holidays and tell my three younger siblings that I am not a temp, but a junior sales associate at a low-range electric company," Gale says in a private interview, still as unenthusiastic about working here in general as he had been last year. "My brother Rory works for Wawa's Corporation, so he likes to think he's the big cheese of the family."_

" _I won't mention that in four months I have made zero sales, though," he adds, his cheeks tinged red with embarrassment._

* * *

 _Cato is sobbing when brought in for his private interview and asked how he feels about the changes that have been made to the office staff._

" _Peeta is gone! Waaaah! I miss him so much! Life will never be the same…" he wails._

 _Suddenly, his entire demeanor changes to one that is overjoyed._

" _Sike! I couldn't be happier about the changes that have been made in the office," he says with a smug grin._

* * *

"All I am saying, Haymitch, is that you have to be careful about the things you say to people. The nicknames have gotten excessive, and people around the office have begun to complain…"

"Princess, how else am I supposed to comment on the idiocy here? I'm not gonna call them by their actual names—which are all unfortunate enough, if we're being honest—because then I'd never get the point across."

Effie sighs. "Yesterday, for example, you called Beetee 'Volts' all day…"

"He stood up and corrected me on the voltage of the electric package I was trying to sell for Lumberjack Boy, since he can't get a damn package sold…he made me look like an idiot in front of everyone."

The human resources representative shakes her head solemnly.

"He was just trying to help, Haymitch."

"Well, he didn't have to be so… _smart_ …about it."

"He does have to be, actually. Beetee is a genius."

The manager guffaws.

"Yeah, okay."

"No, he is actually a genius. Beetee has an IQ of 151, which makes him a genius."

Haymitch scoffs. "Bet I could get a better score than that."

Effie rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. The geniuses account for less than one percent of test-takers, Haymitch. I hardly believe that you would fall under that category."

Despite the insult, Haymitch seems genuinely shocked to learn this piece of news about his accountant. The cameras travel from the inside of Haymitch's office to where Beetee works at his computer.

"He's really a genius?"

"Yes, he told me this morning. It is a rather sensitive topic for him…I believe he had a difficult time fitting in with people growing up because of his mental superiority. He doesn't want anyone here to know, so he and I really trust your discretion on this…"

Haymitch merely nods along, looking past Effie and at the clump of accountants' desks.

* * *

" _I would have never called him 'Volts' if I knew he_ cared _about it. You never call someone something ever if they actually care. I always assumed my comedy was just generally accepted by all," Haymitch admits. He glances at his 'Best Mentor' mug and looks almost ashamed._

" _I used to think that my nicknames were the great bridge of divide that connected me with my workers, but now I just don't know. Who else is afflicted by sensitivity, ya know? Do I have to spend my days censoring myself and praying that I don't send my employees home crying? (Beep) that."_

* * *

"Hey, Beetee," Haymitch says, rather loudly, as he approaches Beetee at the copier. "About yesterday…I feel terrible about it. I had no idea about…you know…"

Haymitch then points, quite blatantly, to his cranium.

Looking around nervously to see if anyone is watching this happen, Beetee whispers hastily for Haymitch not to worry about it, and that it is all over and done with.

"No, really. Had I known that you were bullied for having a genius IQ, then I wouldn't have said anything. Listen, for future reference, if I don't know how to behave around you with the nicknames, it's only because I am in such a…different mental category. Probably higher, but we haven't checked."

Beetee shoots a look of cynicism over to the cameras before continuing to assure Haymitch that everything is fine. It is clear that this is a volatile secret that he worries Haymitch will expose to everyone in the office.

"Say, how about you and I sit down and chat about this stuff during the Feast? You can show me…how to do times tables? Sound cool?"

Sighing, Beetee nods.

"That sounds like a…wonderful idea, Haymitch. Thank you."

As soon as Beetee returns to his desk, he notices that Clove and Caesar are staring at him, each with a different expression on their frozen faces. Clove looks madder than hell, while Caesar looks as though he is about to spill over with excitement. They have both heard every word of the past conversation.

* * *

" _We have a genius in our midst! How exciting! I don't know who I am more thrilled to sit next to—Beetee, or his brain!" Caesar declares. "Now, I can ask for Beetee's help whenever I am having trouble with tabulating expense reports and calculating losses and filing things…SO EXCITING!"_

* * *

 _When asked why Clove is so upset about the news that Beetee is a genius being overheard by her and Caesar, she rolls her eyes._

" _Because I am the head of accounting, not Beetee," she spits, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder to where Beetee buries his face in his hands while Caesar continues to talk to him. "He poses a threat. If he takes my job because his IQ is higher, then there is going to be hell to pay. I have to make sure that doesn't happen."_

 _Clove simply smiles evilly when asked by the crew what she means by that._

* * *

" _Yes, I am a genius," Beetee admits personally to the cameras. "I got that IQ score when I was in elementary school, and people were ruthless to me for it, even the teachers. It got worse as I got older. If everyone here at work finds out…and because of Haymitch, of all people…"_

 _He is too angry to finish his thought. But everyone knows that with these workers, no line goes uncrossed._

* * *

Cinna enters the office whistling a merry tune. There is an unmistakable pep in his step. His sunglasses and fashion magazines are nowhere in sight, and his usual frown is replaced by the most unusual of smiles.

"Happy Feast Day, everyone!" Cinna announces gaily before he starts singing to himself.

* * *

" _What is Feast Day? It's quite possibly the best day of the year," Cinna tells the cameras in his private interview. "You see, one day every year, Corporate decides to be gracious hosts to the branches. They fund this huge, catered meal for us from some of the best restaurants in New York, and they deliver it to each office. It's always great timing…comes right around that time of year when we all desperately need it most, also known as the start of a new fiscal year."_

 _He shrugs, backing off slightly from the uncharacteristic giddiness that he is displaying and trying very hard to uphold his calm, cool, and collected composure._

" _It's the one day I to look forward to at this damn job," he says, straight-faced. He is not joking._

* * *

"Okay, so Haymitch, I don't know if you got my fax from earlier today, but there's a pretty important message from Corporate that I feel like I should relay to you personally…" Coin's voice starts, sounding solely professional, on the speaker of Haymitch's office phone.

Haymitch snickers. "Personally, like, in bed tonight? While you're spooning me? I'm into it."

Coin sighs. "Take me off speaker phone if you're going to talk like this."

* * *

" _So, a little about my love life this summer," Haymitch begins when asked to comment on where he stands with Coin and Cecelia._

" _Cecelia and I went on seven beautiful, wild dates. They were amazing. She was amazing. The sex was…_ amazing _. But I started to get tired of the rock climbing and the water parks and the five times a night thing, and she claimed I wasn't as 'fun' as I was in high school, anymore. I tried to make it up to her by proposing while we went skydiving, which resulted in a particularly hard punch in the jaw...mid-air. She has since sold several of my friends real estate."_

 _Cressida then asks about Coin._

" _Well, Cecelia broke up with me before I could invite her out to my mother's timeshare in the Outer Banks, so I called up Alma and asked her to join me. She did, and one thing led to another…"_

 _Haymitch waggles his eyebrows._

" _Let's just say this Feast won't be my only feast today."_

* * *

" _My strategy for the Feast is a simple one," Cato says, sounding as if he is reciting facts out of a history book as he recounts his plan for the Feast. "Get in, get my food, get out…Wait till about five minutes till the work day ends, put the leftovers into large shopping bags, run to my car, go home. It doesn't always work, and I don't always make it out alive, but when I do, I feed my roommate Marvel and I with upscale, delicious food for a solid week. Saves us money so we can pay our electric bill."_

 _He pauses when he thinks about the last bit of his statement._

" _That's ironic, considering where I work."_

* * *

 _Madge appears to be offended when asked if she is excited for today's Feast._

" _Oh, no. I can't eat that processed junk. I'm on a strictly fruit-based diet till the end of the month. This week, it's strawberries."_

 _Pausing as she looks over and registers the expressions of the crew, she shrugs._

" _What? It's not, extreme, okay? You guys sound just like Gale…look, with the Mayoral race coming up—Undersee 2016!—I need to look as hot as possible for all of the press that is being done on my family. I'm going on a retreat this weekend...fine, yes, I'll probably sneak a few dozen cupcakes in during the Feast! Good for you guys, now I'm starving! Are you happy?"_

 _She starts anger-eating a strawberry due to the release of her pent up hunger-induced rage._

* * *

The crew also now films the Panem Electric office in District Four, which is located in New London, Connecticut.

Peeta works at a modern desk in a modern office with a beautiful window view of the city. He is his usual, charming self as he speaks with a customer on the phone about Panem coal.

* * *

" _Why did I transfer here? I mean, it's pretty obvious. I have a promotion, and an amazing view of the Thames River right next to my desk…it was an offer I couldn't refuse," Peeta says in his first private interview in District Four._

 _Castor, one of the assistant directors of the documentary who is filming the New London segments, asks if he is excited for the Feast._

 _Rubbing his hands together, Peeta grins. "Oh yeah, I am. Except here, they don't call it 'The Feast'…it's just lunch from Corporate. A lot of the, erm,_ traditions _from Twelve aren't common around here. Like, Katniss and I used to make bets on Feast Day. Who would be first in line, who would fake the most bathroom breaks to go back for more food, how long it would take for Jackson, the security guard, to catch Cato stealing the leftovers…stuff like that."_

 _He shrugs._

" _But hey, it's a fresh start. A new chance to make new traditions, or maybe bring some of the old ones here."_

* * *

"Cheese Buns, how's it going?" the man who sits in the desk in front of Peeta says, grinning as he rolls his desk chair up to Peeta's desk as close as he possibly can.

"Not much, Finnick," Peeta replies.

"I have to know, Cheese Buns, what do you think of Bonnie over there?" Finnick asks, lowering his voice as he jabs his thumb over his shoulder to direct Peeta's attention by way of the brunette who stands by the kitchen, reading a document.

"Hot, right?" Finnick urges. Peeta agrees with a pressed nod. "Too bad she's _crazy_. She threatens to run away just about every single day. Never does, though. This job is her crutch."

"Oh."

"I know nothing holds you back, Cheese Buns. Steer clear of Bonnie Twill, though. Plenty of ingredients around here that you can stick in that mixing bowl of yours," Finnick says, cocking a suave grin at the sight of Peeta's aversion to the sexual baking analogy before returning to his own desk.

Finnick is back, just as Peeta has looked away.

"Sugar cube?"

Peeta jumps. He eyes the ceramic bowl, filled with sugar cubes, and politely shakes his head.

"No thanks. I don't have any tea..."

"You don't _need_ tea, Cheese Buns. When you see something sweet," he says, popping the cube right into his mouth, "you better grab it."

"Unless that something sweet is crazy, right?" Peeta asks, referring to Bonnie Twill. Finnick chuckles.

"Now, you're catching on."

* * *

" _Finnick Odair, one of the other salesmen here, calls me Cheese Buns because I made my own lunch on the first day I worked here, which happened to be cheese buns," Peeta elaborates when asked about the strange nickname his co-worker has given him. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't know my actual name."_

* * *

" _Cheese Buns strikes me as the ambitious type. Sort of a know-it-all, if you ask me," Finnick explains, sitting in the chair for his private interview in a way that suggests both sexual dominance and confidence._

" _I'm not threatened by him, though. You see, I went to a little school around these parts—perhaps you've heard of it—called_ Yale University. _I'm a legacy. I was basically admitted by the time I was fourteen, so getting in was a breeze._ _I was Captain of the swim team, I was drunk ninety-five percent of the time, I was a brother in a fraternity,_ and _I managed to get out of there in four years unscathed and without my virginity_ _."_

" _How, you may ask?" he continues, despite no one having asked. Finnick pops another sugar cube into his mouth and smirks. "My success? That's my little secret."_

* * *

Seneca Crane, the branch manager of District Four, has assembled all of his employees into the extremely upscale conference room. The receptionist, a pleasant-looking older woman—possibly older than Sae—hands out itineraries to everyone.

When she hands one to Peeta, she places a hand on his shoulder and offers him a warm, friendly smile before she silently moves on.

"Thanks, Mags," Finnick says to the old woman when he grabs his itinerary from her. Mags smiles again.

"Alright, so at the end of the day, we will be having yet another discussion on ethics in the workplace. Apparently, there has been an incident in Twelve. Again," Seneca announces. The knowing smirk he wears creates odd dents in his already elaborate facial hair.

Everyone around Peeta chuckles, some of them directing their condescending laughter right at him. Peeta simply shrugs at the cameras.

* * *

" _Peeta is really very sweet," a bubbly blonde saleswoman named Delly Cartwright says when the camera crew asks her about her new co-worker. Her corn-yellow eyebrows knit together, concerned, after a moment._

" _I do worry that he is having a hard time fitting in here, though. His sense of humor is a bit…different from the rest of ours. Also, he keeps looking into the camera and making this odd little face…"_

 _She replicates Peeta's infamous helpless look and shrug._

" _Are we, like, supposed to acknowledge you guys? What is that, anyway?"_

* * *

Haymitch and Cato stand, shoulder to shoulder, as they watch the daily hustle of the office pan out from the window of Haymitch's office.

"Cato, can you tell if someone is smart just by looking at them?"

Cato scoffs all-knowingly, "Of course I can. I look at myself every morning in the mirror."

"Shut up, Dummy. I wasn't talking about you. You think Beetee's smart?"

"Oh, hell no."

"Well, you're wrong. Beetee, as it turns out, is a genius. And he doesn't like that I've been using his smarts as the source of his nicknames…after all this time, I didn't know."

"Beetee can't be a genius."

"His IQ is 151."

"Why is he working here, then?" Cato addresses this question to the cameras. "He should be working in a lab or building weapons or hacking computers for a living."

Haymitch is far off from listening to a word Cato says, however. He stares blankly out into the office. He watches Caesar spill hole punch holes down the front of his shirt from holding the hole puncher the wrong way. He watches Sae weighing two different lumps of coal in her hands. He watches Gale angrily hang up his phone. He watches Johanna playing solitaire.

"Look at these people. Who else is a genius? Who else is going to get hurt by ignorance? How many more do I have to offend before the office breaks out in mutiny?"

Cato pauses before speaking, a rare occurrence. He looks as though he debates whether or not to say the following to Haymitch, but he decides to do so.

"Maybe you could just stop with the nicknames…and treat everyone a little more sensitively. That way you won't have to worry about offending anyone," he suggests, speaking slowly and gauging Haymitch's reaction with each word.

The manager rolls his eyes and scoffs at the suggestion.

"Yeah, okay, Cato. Treat everyone like pansies. Great suggestion. Jeez, what happened to you? You used to be a hard ass, and now you're as soft as baby food."

Cato grimaces.

* * *

" _Things have been getting serious with my—in my personal life," Cato explains, catching himself. He is unaware that the crew has captured multiple stolen glances, kisses in supply closets, and drives to the same restaurant with Clove Sevina._

" _So what if I act like a gentleman? That doesn't make me a barbarian, does it? I'll answer that for you. It does not."_

* * *

"I called Clove gay once…do you think she's really gay? She didn't take it well when I called her that, so maybe…" Haymitch says, watching Clove shoot daggers in Beetee's direction.

Cato shakes his head, a bemused little smile on his lips. "No, I really don't think she is."

"I don't know, I could see her with another woman. Couldn't you?"

The smile on Cato's face grows larger.

"Sure."

"Oh, c'mon. Pervert. Okay, do some research. Find out if we can figure out a covert way to wean out the geniuses here."

Cato's thick blonde eyebrows shoot up.

"Peeta once told me about this thing called a _Cranium Cadoo_ that you can buy. Tests your smarts, apparently."

"That sounds ridiculous."

"Yeah," Cato agrees. "You're right. That guy loved pulling my leg."

They are silent, still staring out the window, when Haymitch suggests that Cato call Peeta up about the _Cranium Cadoo_ anyway.

* * *

Katniss looks up, and then immediately looks back down at her computer when the sound of the door being opened catches her attention. Darius, smiling nervously, carries two brown bags to her desk.

"Uhm, chicken or salmon today?" he asks, holding up both bags. Pulling out some envelopes from his shoulder bag, he places them gingerly on her desk. "Also brought some mail."

"Thanks."

"So, uh, which do you want?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, Katniss' soft gray eyes flutter up to him. "The Feast is today, so I probably won't eat…"

"You can take one home for dinner, though," Darius insists, kindness dripping from his voice. "C'mon, Babe—Katniss, I mean—I'll take whichever one you don't want."

She settles on the chicken and she does not watch him leave.

The cameras zoom in on her bare ring finger.

* * *

" _Yeah, I didn't go through with the wedding. I got cold feet and…I just had to end that relationship," Katniss admits in a private interview. "On the upside, we have frozen dinners for weeks…since we had to pay for all that food."_

 _Cressida asks how she is doing as of now._

" _Well, thanks for asking. I moved back in with my mom—but I'm working on affording an apartment—and I think she's enjoying the company. I'm taking this music class at the recreation center now. I'm finally learning how to compose, like my dad. It's daunting, and it's a lot of change all at once…but I'm really starting to adjust to the transitions in my life. All of them."_

* * *

 _The crew then interviews Darius privately down in the warehouse._

" _For a while there I tried to win her back, but she seems pretty set in her decision. That's Katniss for you, stubborn as an ox," he says with a nervous laugh._

" _Otherwise? I'm not gonna lie to you, I hit rock bottom pretty hard after she left me. Grew a beard, got arrested for getting into a bar fight…I even gained some weight."_

 _The camera pans over his still-lanky frame, suggesting that weight gain for Darius Lavins means essentially nothing._

" _But, I'm starting over, and I'm not gonna take anything for granted ever again. Because you never know how good you've got it until it is packing up all of her things and going back to live with her mom three days before your wedding."_

* * *

" _I got them a set of his and her towels, which they gave back to me after they called the damn thing off," Johanna, very irritated, says in a private interview. "What the (beep) am I supposed to do with towels that have their (beep)-ing initials on it?"_

* * *

" _Cranium_ …?" Peeta says, brow furrowing as he sits in his desk and listens to presumably Cato. "Oh, yeah! _Cranium Cadoo_! I think they sell it right over the counter…try Toys 'R' Us. You know…I can check for you…"

From the desks in front of and behind Peeta, both Finnick and Delly curiously watch Peeta pretending to type into his computer, a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, shoot. They're sold out. Sorry, guys."

Back in Allentown, Cato cusses at the defeat. Haymitch, who is listening in, sighs.

"I'm gonna check Amazon…" he grumbles before staggering to his office.

"By the way, while I have you, Mellark," Cato sneers as he puts Peeta on speakerphone and begins to wrap a napkin around his neck, "the Feast will be starting in just a few hours, and I want you to know that I will be expanding my dining table onto _your_ old desk. So much for your 'personal space' now."

Gale, the actual owner of said desk, briefly looks up from his work into the camera. He seems baffled that he is essentially invisible to Cato Hadley.

In New London, the cameras capture Delly and Finnick watching in fascination as Peeta puts Cato on speakerphone and continues with the conversation, an idea clearly spinning in his head.

"Oh, really?" Peeta asks, fighting very little to ward off the amused grin that he knows Cato cannot see.

Cato begins clearing Gale's belongings off of the desk and starts to set up a set of fancy dinnerware.

"You heard me. You may have thought you could get rid of me by moving away, but ooooh, brother! You're so wrong! Because I can still do this—I can still manage to annoy you from afar…"

"By eating on two desks?"

"That's right."

Peeta sucks in a dramatic breath. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Cato…"

Finnick eyes Peeta inquisitively while Delly clamps her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.

The brutish salesman on the other end laughs maniacally.

"What are you gonna do, Mellark? Come back here and beat me up?"

"No, but the bees might."

Cato's laughter ceases.

"Bees?"

Peeta nods and leans back in his chair, enjoying every sweet moment of Cato's naiveté.

"Yeah, I called in the problem to maintenance a while ago, but I'm not sure if they fixed it. There was a pretty hostile nest of bees in the top drawer of that desk. If you disturb them…it won't end in a pretty sight, Cato. I know you're allergic."

"Highly so," Cato says, his eyes widening. Gullibility is Cato's weakness in this moment. Fashioning a weapon out of his cutlery, Cato creeps closer to Peeta/Gale's desk.

Katniss, who has been listening in on the whole thing, is a step ahead of Peeta. On her phone, she has readied an app that will make the sound of bees buzzing as soon as Cato's ear comes in contact with the drawer.

Cato falls for the whole thing. He screams, quickly gathers everything he had set up on the desk, and bolts toward the men's bathroom. Gale sighs appreciatively before he backpedals from the desk.

In New London, Peeta is exchanging high-fives with his co-workers.

"You're hardcore, Cheese Buns," Finnick says with a weak laugh.

* * *

" _Yeah, I didn't get what was so funny about that. This guy's got a weird sense of humor…" Finnick tells the cameras privately._

* * *

In his rush to vomit in a bathroom stall, Cato leaves the phone on. Quickly rising from her desk, Katniss hurries over to the phone and greets her old friend.

"Peeta! Hi!"

"Cato? Wow, your voice got higher…"

She giggles, getting closer to the speaker as if it were really him. "It's Katniss!"

"See, I knew that voice sounded too nice to be Cato's. How are you, Everdeen?"

"Alright. This office is...we all miss you."

"I don't miss him that much," Gale comments. "He was a nice dude, but now that I've got a better job, I couldn't care if he became President."

Katniss rolls her eyes as Peeta thanks Gale for his sincere words.

"Okay, well, _I_ miss you. I had to cast all of my Feast Day bets alone this year."

"First one in line?"

"Easy. Cinna."

"Person who's going to fake the most bathroom breaks?"

"I'm going with a wild card and saying Johanna."

"Interesting choice, but I can dig it. How many bags did Cato bring to smuggle the leftovers in?"

" _Five._ He's really hopeful this year." They both laugh after the rapid-fire conversation about bets comes to a close. Biting her lip, she asks, "How's life in District Four?"

"Oh…it's really great, actually. I'm really liking it here," his voice replies. Katniss' smile visibly falters.

"That's good to hear."

The sounds of a sing-songy voice in the background saying that the catered food has arrived cuts Katniss off. The female voice excitedly exclaims that there is a roast pig in the conference room.

"Hey, Everdeen, I've gotta go…"

"Was that your…?"

"My friend Delly, yeah. Sorry, I wish I could talk more. Let me know how those bets work out, okay?"

He has hung up before she can reply.

"Okay," Katniss mutters, taking the phone off speaker.

* * *

"Beetee!" Madge trills his name as she skips up to him. "I just wanted to say that I think it's _so cool_ that you're a genius. My dad—Mayoral Candidate Douglas Undersee, 2016!—thinks so too. Say, would you be willing to maybe come over to his office and do a few press junkets with him? Interviews, pictures, whatever…we would love to have a _genius_ as the face of our campaign."

Beetee looks so badly like he wants to object. Caesar watches on from his desk in awe. Clove just glares.

Too kind to object to the pleading blonde girl in front of him, Beetee reluctantly agrees.

Madge claps her hands together enthusiastically and pops another strawberry into her mouth as if it is reflexive. She recoils like the fruit is poisonous, clearly at wit's end with her diet.

"Seriously, Beetee, you're so cool," she says as she chokes back vomit, forcing a smile on her face. "I totally underestimated you."

* * *

" _Yes, I am so cool. I have an IQ of 151, and I work as an accountant for a failing coal-powered electric company in Allentown, Pennsylvania," Beetee says dryly to the cameras as he pushes his glasses up the rim of his nose._

" _I am basically just like Albert Einstein."_

* * *

Beetee's office-mates have all taken very different approaches to slowly pushing every button the accountant has.

Caesar, always a fan of knowing everything about everyone, asks incessant questions, many of which having to do with the past that Beetee wanted to avoid speaking about.

"Was it like _Good Will Hunting_ , and you answered the hardest equation ever?"

"No, Caesar, I just took an IQ test. That's how I found out."

"Do you ever sit at home and watch game shows and try to answer all of the questions before the contestants can?"

"Yes, Caesar, but conceptually speaking, I think everyone does that."

"Yeah, but I bet you're the only person you know who answers them all _right_ ," Caesar adds, waggling his thick eyebrows.

Not everyone is as accepting of Beetee as Madge and Caesar are, however.

Several members of the office, such as Johanna, try and take advantage of the opportunity that is having a genius working among them.

"Hey, Beetee…" she greets him, a sugary sweetness dripping from her voice. "I've got to add up these supply expenses and I was wondering if…"

Beetee's hand sharply cuts her off.

"Johanna, need I remind you that you have never once called me by my real name? It's always been whatever rude nickname Haymitch assigns me for the week. Up until a few hours ago you were calling me Volts. I know what you're after, and you are capable of doing the expense reports on your own."

Johanna simmers. "We can't all be _geniuses,_ I guess…"

Irked by her jab, Beetee agrees to do the reports.

Others, like Cinna, who is too concerned with eating, and Katniss, who is too concerned with overanalyzing her conversation with Peeta from earlier, ignore Beetee's news entirely.

The worst of the lot, however, is Clove Sevina. She spends the day either glaring at Beetee or intentionally knocking things over as she walks past his desk to get to her own. The rest of the time is spent giving him sole responsibility of tasks that require the brain power of three accountants and blatantly using a stopwatch to time his task completion.

"Here," she says, dropping a stack of documents about three inches tall on Beetee's desk. His eyes widen behind the thick lenses of his glasses.

"What?"

"These need to be done by the end of the day. I'm the head of accounting, so you have to do it because I say so."

"How, Clove? This is too much work for me to do on my own."

Clove smirks, clicking her stopwatch right in his face. "You're a genius. I trust that you'll figure it out."

* * *

Cinna starts to become restless when lunch hour passes and no Feast has arrived.

With quiet rage, he starts to do the work that has begun to pile up on his desk. He works diligently and is the most productive he has ever been since the documentary crew has met him.

* * *

" _I try to always channel my emotions into my work," Cinna says, looking over his shoulder with expectancy that the Feast will arrive at any moment. He is visibly angered when he returns his gaze to the cameras. "That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself."_

* * *

The Feast eventually shows up.

In a single grocery bag, toted by a very angry Alma Coin.

Groaning, Cinna reaches for his phone.

"Are you alright, Cinna?" his desk-clump mate, Wiress, asks from where she sits across from him. Cinna sighs and glances longingly at the grocery bag in Coin's hands as she speaks in hushed tones with Beetee.

"If _that's_ our Feast, then I'm gonna have to make a few really good sales calls," Cinna says.

After finishing up her conversation with Beetee, which Effie has now joined, the cameras follow Coin's gaze as the song "Bella Note" comes on over the loudspeakers and Haymitch, rose clutched in between his teeth, stands with open arms at his office door.

"Welcome, my love. And let the Feast begin!" he announces.

Alma has him shoved back inside, Effie hot on her trail, and the music shut off before anyone else can react. Coin has left the grocery bag on Katniss' desk, however, leaving the remaining office members to peer over the alleged Feast.

Inside of Haymitch's office, Coin begins going off on a tirade about respect and bullying in the office.

"That was Beetee's secret to tell, not yours!" Alma exclaims, pacing angrily around the space. "How can you be so…inconsiderate to people's _feelings_? You have no sense of respect, not for yourself, and certainly not for your employees…"

"I have respect for my employees, okay? I happened to invite Beetee to eat his Feast with me today, so I'd like to see you less-intelligent mouth breathers come up with a reason for why _that_ is inconsiderate," Haymitch objects.

"Less-intelligent mouth breathers?" Coin's voice is shrill, grating, and enraged. "This is exactly what we are talking about."

"Haymitch," Effie cuts in, far calmer than the Vice President, "Beetee feels as though he is being bullied by his co-workers, specifically Clove…and that is all your doing."

"Well, Clove might be a lesbian, so that might explain some of the hostility."

Coin growls in frustration.

Haymitch glances at the cameras. "Is it wrong for me to be kind of turned on by you right now?"

"Yes! Haymitch, imagine for a second that _you_ were the genius," Coin tries something new, attempting to calm herself and failing miserably. Haymitch laughs, and the gray-clad woman seethes.

"Don't have to imagine. We _both_ know that I'm pretty intelligent…when it comes to knowing how to get you going. You know, sexually."

Effie blinks and stares at the two fighting managers before clearing her throat and speaking up.

"I'm sorry, are you two… _together_?"

"Yes," the say together, Haymitch very proudly while Coin covers her face.

"Why hasn't your relationship been submitted on file in HR?" Effie asks. "All office relationships must be on file…"

Haymitch, shocked, looks up at Alma.

"That was supposed to be your job."

The woman looks away coldly, dismissively. "Let's not talk about this now, Haymitch. I haven't gotten around to it yet…"

"Why not? It's been a few months."

"I—uh," Coin glances into the camera before she hardens her stare and returns it to Haymitch. "Honestly? I am not ready to call this a relationship, Haymitch."

Effie looks nervously at the cameras.

"Oh, dear," she says before scurrying out of the room to let the pair have their discussion.

They wait for her to go before either of them speaks again.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch, I just…"

"What? You're embarrassed by me? Too good for me? Underwhelmed by my performance? What is it?" Haymitch spits, his tone cutting.

Coin sighs and gestures to how he has curled himself into his chair like a child or a small dog while pointing his finger at her.

"It's _this_. The immaturity. The fact that you pose a potential lawsuit to the company almost every month, and the way you treat your co-workers, and the mug that we all know is not for coffee," Coin admits, looking guilty as she says these things to her boyfriend.

Oddly enough, Haymitch nods and remains silent.

"We will talk about this at home, Alma. I have mouths to feed. Let the Feast begin."

* * *

In the conference room, everyone stares resentfully at what they were hoping was just Alma's grocery order and not their Feast. The Vice President and branch manager work in tense silence to lay all of the food out.

The Feast consists of stale bagels, assorted spreads, a veggie platter, and Munchkins from Dunkin' Donuts.

Coin can sense the anger in the room before she turns to face everyone. The cameras catch her taking a deep, calming breath, Haymitch watching angrily at her side. She whirs around with a huge, fake smile on her face.

"Well, everyone, enjoy the food!" she cheers.

Madge, who has her lips curled around another strawberry, raises her eyebrows skeptically.

"That's a joke, right? I could eat all of that and still reach my goal weight."

Coin shakes her head. "Unfortunately, due to the recent struggles with the company's budget in the failing economy, this is all that Corporate could afford to fund for your…uh…Feast."

Cinna just walks out of the room. The sounds of glass being shattered can be heard in the distance.

Surveying the looks of shock and betrayal in the room, Coin claps her hands together.

"Alright, well, it looks like Haymitch has got the rest of this under control, so have a great day!" she says before quickly exiting the office. The cameras follow her outside and watch her angrily kick the wall of the building.

Which leaves Haymitch Abernathy alone to fend against a pack of hungry wolves.

"Well, you heard her. This is all we're getting, so let's dig in," Haymitch says miserably. He opts to do nothing at all to alleviate the disastrous situation ahead when he sulks out of the room and into his office.

But no one moves. Everyone is either too shocked by how horrible this Feast is or too scared of their boss' out-of-character compliance to Alma Coin.

Clove, in a streak of unkindness, steps next to Beetee and gestures grandly at him.

"Well, considering that there isn't enough food for all of us, I propose that we let the _genius_ ration out everything. Beetee? What do you say?"

Beetee, eyes wild behind his glasses, glowers at Clove.

"I say that you ought to stop using 'genius' as a derogatory term, because I've got some pretty choice nicknames for you from over the years that I bet you don't want coming back."

Clove crosses her arms over her chest confidently. "Oh yeah? Like what? You can't bother me, Latier."

"How about Minnie Mouse? Or Lullaby League? Or, my personal favorite—Haymitch didn't even think of this one, your office mates did—Stone Cold Bitch."

Beetee has chosen fighting words, and the smaller girl, who is notoriously picked on for her size to her face, but never for her strict personality, lunges toward him when he tries to leave the conference room.

Beetee shoves her aside, however, and pushes her into Wiress. This sends Cato into inexplicable rage. He screams and starts for Beetee, but he is stopped by Gale.

"Cool it, you barbarian," Gale says.

Cato rolls his eyes. "Coming from Lumberjack Boy, who can't keep his cool long enough to make a single sale. They should rename you Jack-(beep) Boy."

Gale tosses Cato down to the floor. Madge tries to stop him, and Johanna gets a face full of strawberries as a result of Madge throwing them right in her direction.

"Good, get your Spoiled Brat girlfriend to save your ass, Hawthorne," Johanna sneers. "Maybe, since you two get everything you want, _you_ can take all of the food."

"Don't you have somewhere to be where girls are going wild without you, Johanna?" Madge fires back.

"Well, it's certainly not your Daddy's precious Mayor rally!"

"Don't act all innocent, Johanna," Wiress says, jumping to the defense of Madge. "We all know you're the laziest lump around this office. You'll probably grab all of the food the second our backs are turned."

"Can it, Nuts, or I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine. Plus, I think we're all forgetting that _Sae_ is the office clepto…"

Sae, mid-stuffing her satchel with stale bagels, hisses in response.

"Hey! Watch it, guys. We can figure out a way for all of us to eat…" Katniss starts, only to be cut off by the entire group coming after her.

"Oh, speaking of _geniuses_ , Brainless over here has decided to talk!" Johanna proclaims.

"You certainly couldn't figure out how to feed all of us if you couldn't even get two guys to stick around you," Clove spits vehemently.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Katniss yells angrily.

"Peeta left because of you, _Sweetheart_ ," Johanna sneers, using Haymitch's nickname for her in a derogatory way.

Katniss is reeling. "W-what?"

"Don't play dumb. You broke Lover Boy's heart and he couldn't handle it," Clove backs Johanna up. When Katniss continues to blink, shocked, Clove scoffs. "It's not rocket science. Beetee, care to draw Katniss a diagram or something to help her understand this concept a little better?"

"Why I oughta…" Beetee grumbles.

Katniss, fuming at how Clove has blamed her for Peeta's departure, leaps onto the smaller girl and pummels her to the floor. From there, everyone else breaks out into heated arguments and tiny food fights, using the food from the Feast as ammunition.

Cato, however, stands tall and attentive over the wrestling pair of Clove and Katniss. He must be thinking about Haymitch's comment about seeing Clove with another woman from earlier, because he looks disturbingly turned on.

Haymitch returns from his office at the sound of the commotion, clearly having downed a few more drinks since he was last seen. Upon surveying the physical and verbal altercations of his employees, his eyes widen.

* * *

" _Can you imagine a future where people have to kill each other in order to eat?" Haymitch asks in a private interview outside of the chaotic conference room. "Because now that I'm thinkin' about it…it's a good premise for a book, or a movie." He chuckles a little at the gruesome idea. "You guys ought to write that down."_

* * *

"Knock it off, you idiots!" Haymitch shouts at the top of his lungs, causing everyone to pause and pay full attention to their boss. "What the (beep) do you think you all are doing?"

Placing her hands on her hips, Johanna rolls her eyes.

"Oh, we're just having it out with each other. Typical day at the office."

"With the food from the Feast?" Haymitch shrieks.

"What Feast?" Cinna deadpans from the back corner of the conference room, picking away miserably at a stale bagel.

"Do you all think this is some kind of _game_? Some sick, twisted _hunger game_?" Haymitch reprimands his employees. "You know what, that's it. Everyone, put the food down, set the chairs up, and shut your damn mouths. I'm calling an emergency meeting for sensitivity training."

The members of District Twelve comply sheepishly.

Standing at the front of the room and stalking the perimeter of where the chairs have been lined up, Haymitch begins ranting.

"Guys, we can't do this. We can't bully each other, and torment each other for what makes us different. What happened to all of us putting the _us_ in _genius_ , huh?"

Holding back shocked laughter over the lame pun, Katniss turns to Gale as she would have with Peeta in these situations. Gale, however, eyes her with confusion.

"I swear I've had nightmares about sensitivity training with Haymitch," she whispers through her giggles. Gale's scowl deepens.

"What?" he asks, not getting the moment that has already passed. Katniss drops the subject and stares sadly at her lap.

* * *

 _Katniss is asked if she thinks that what people were saying about Peeta is true. She shakes her head and twirls the end of her braid methodically around her fingers._

" _No, I mean…He got a promotion. The opportunity in Four was just better for him. There's no way what happened between us is the main reason he left…" she says, sounding entirely unconvinced._

* * *

Finnick Odair is busily typing plugging away at his work when he reaches into his drawer for his calculator. Instead, he pulls out a freshly baked loaf of sourdough bread.

The cameras instantly zoom up from the bread, where the calculator has been comically lodged in the middle, to capture Finnick's expression. He is very clearly annoyed, but is trying to appear as though it does not bother him.

"Alright, who put my calculator in bread?" he addresses the whole New London crowd.

Without Finnick's knowledge, the cameras are now on Peeta, who smirks and fights back hysterical laughter. Behind Peeta, Delly's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Mags looks up from her desk, concern etched in her grandmotherly features. Bonnie Twill appears from around the corner. Even Seneca, looking slightly amused, emerges from his office at the sounds of zero productivity.

"Haha, very funny. Good one. Seriously, guys. Who did this?"

No one answers. Peeta continues to sport a telling grin that Finnick, in his stupor, misses entirely.

"C'mon, guys," Finnick urges, becoming more frazzled as he springs to his feet.

"I think it's just a prank, Finn," Delly says, her eyes darting protectively over to Peeta. "Nothing to worry about."

"No, you see, Delly, I need to know who the _sneak_ that put my calculator in bread is…or else I AM GOING TO LOSE MY FREAKING MIND."

With this final outburst, the distressed salesman reaches for the salad fork on his desk and begins stabbing away at anything he can find. No paper, desk surface, or trashcan is safe from Finnick Odair's wrath.

As this is happening, Peeta's smile disappears entirely. He looks at the cameras, shakes his head as if to say, 'Mission abort', and returns to stare intensely at his computer while his co-worker rides out a temper tantrum right in front of him.

* * *

Things are not going much better over in Allentown. The more he speaks, the more Haymitch digs himself into a confusing, offensive, and very deep hole.

"So Beetee has a crazy high IQ. So what? It makes him a genius, yes, and that is no reason to make fun of him. That is no reason to use any number of the amazing nerd jokes you _could_ but definitely _should not_ use. Just because Beetee is a genius or Clove is three feet tall or Gale is too hot to be true doesn't give us the permission to take advantage of these things and use them for our own personal gain or enjoyment," Haymitch professes.

Clove narrows her eyes at her boss.

"That's what you do to us every single day."

Haymitch looks taken aback.

"Me? No, those are…that's different."

"How so?" Beetee asks, eyeing the manager over his glasses. "You have been the one who has made me feel least welcome in this office all day, Haymitch. I had no intention of telling anyone what my IQ was. I was bullied for my brain all throughout my lifetime, and the last thing I wanted to do was bring that here. But you never really gave me a choice."

Cato's hand shoots up.

Rolling his eyes, Haymitch asks him what the hell he wants.

"I think all of the other geniuses in the room should identify themselves. That way the rest of us know who the threats are," Cato proclaims, chest puffing with pride at his idea.

"There are no other geniuses in this office!" Beetee exclaims, exasperated.

"Hey, what are you trying to say?" Wiress whines. "I got straight A's in school."

"Because you went to school when people still dragged their knuckles on the ground," Johanna says condescendingly.

This causes another fight to break out among everyone.

The cameras zoom in on Sae, who is watching the entire scene pan out with a small smile on her wrinkled face.

* * *

 _Out of curiosity, the crew asks Sae what her IQ is._

" _It's 160," she says proudly, the most shocking statement of the entire day. "Did a lot of work for the government back in my day. But shhh, don't tell anyone. Don't wanna end up like Four Eyes in there."_

* * *

"Do you all feel this way?" Haymitch poses this question to everyone. Many people in the room nod.

To say that the boss looks offended would be an understatement. The cameras closely examine his face. The twitch of his upper lip, the fire that burns in his eyes, and the deepening furrow of his brow are all very telling.

"Do none of you have a sense of humor?" he asks. "Okay, you know what, we're doing this _Mean Girls_ style. How many of you have felt personally victimized by one of my nicknames?"

Several people, like Beetee, Effie, and Clove, raise their hands immediately. Katniss heavily considers before raising her hand as well. She is joined by Wiress, Gale, Madge, Caesar, and Johanna. Sae and Cinna, not paying enough attention to know what is being tabulated, raise their hands when they see all of the other hands that have been raised.

Lastly, slowly, and painfully, Cato is the final person in the room to raise his hand.

Trying hard to mask their respective shame and betrayal, Cato and Haymitch dramatically turn their heads to look away from each other, as if some sort of unspoken promise between them has been broken.

"Alright, so let's hear it," Haymitch says finally, chomping down on his knuckle to keep from getting too emotional.

"Hear what?" asks Caesar, not following.

"Get in line. I want to hear from each and every one of you what nicknames you have these alleged problems with. Right here, right now, we're going to—what do you kids call it, Gale?"

"Squashing the beef," Gale says, looking mortified to have taught Haymitch a new phrase to abuse.

"Yup, we're gonna squash the beets."

"He said _beef_ ," Madge corrects her boss.

"Let the man say beets if he wants to say beets!" Cato growls, suddenly leaping to Haymitch's defense in a chance to get back in his good graces. Haymitch smiles slightly, which Cato takes as a huge victory.

Effie worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Haymitch, this might not be the best idea…"

"Shut it, Trinket. I would say something about your hair, but that's counterproductive."

The HR rep 'tsk, tsk's in disapproval.

"This is exactly what we have been discussing all day, Haymitch. You cannot just make fun of me for how I dress, or speak, or the job I have to do…"

"You know what, your turn's over. You lost your turn to talk. Get in the back of the line, Trinket. You poofy waste of space."

What follows is brutal. So brutal that the crew decides to edit most of the sound out of each individual member in the office listing their gripes with the manager's personal attacks on their behaviors and appearances.

Madge protests that she does not want to be referred to as spoiled any longer. Gale states that he wants Haymitch to delete his number from his phone. Katniss has kept a log of every insult he has made while passing by her desk.

Johanna uses her time slot to point to her breasts.

"See these? You're never going near them, so stop making comments about them."

Whereas it seems to be cathartic for the workers, it leaves Haymitch looking drained and defeated.

"And then there's the time you called me a slut in high school…" Wiress says, her list of grievances dating all the way back to when she and Haymitch went to school together.

"Okay, next!" Haymitch says abruptly, rubbing his tired eyes with the palms of his hands.

Beetee, incidentally, is the last man standing. The genius takes one good look at Haymitch before he sighs and turns to Effie.

"You know what? It's not even worth it. I'm tired of this. I cannot work here anymore. This has been the most humiliating day of my life."

He starts for the door, but Haymitch dives in front of him.

"AH-AH-AH-AH, No you don't! Not until you air out this dirty laundry. Squash the beans!"

Beetee shakes his head sternly. "I'm not going to stand here and talk to you about all of the problems I have with you, Haymitch, because we could stand here for _days_ and you won't change. You're a sad old drunken fool, and frankly, I don't _want_ to squash my beef with you."

The manager absorbs these comments, derived from hate, like a sad sponge. Everyone is shocked to see their co-worker has finally snapped at their boss.

* * *

" _Normally, I don't associate with fools," Cato says privately. "But if Haymitch is a fool, and he is my friend…I suppose I do associate with fools."_

* * *

Beetee, looking remorseful, tries again to escape, but Haymitch cuts him off.

"No, you know what, we are going to settle this once and for all. Let's raise the stakes."

Haymitch darts across the room, grabs a celery stick off of the floor from the dismembered veggie platter, and sticks it in his mouth. Several people make noises of disgust. Katniss' mouth hangs open in shock as she looks into the camera.

"You and me are gonna eat our Feast together—genius and fool—like in _The Lady and the Tramp_."

Beetee looks perturbed.

"Haymitch, it's fine…we don't have to…"

"Yes we do. I want everyone to watch this," Haymitch says as he forcefully guides the other end of the celery to Beetee's mouth. "Because this is an image of unity that I want you people to remember and burn into your brains. Whenever you come into the office, I want you to think about this image."

Haymitch begins to furiously nibble away at the celery while Beetee, stunned, does not move.

Haymitch opens his eyes, sees that Beetee has bitten off none of the celery, and lets out a low rumble.

"God, Volts! Come on! Don't be a dumbass, you nerd," he hisses, using several demeaning terms in the process.

He tries to shove the celery forward to get it in Beetee's mouth, but he ends up propelling himself forward instead. Haymitch and Beetee bang heads loudly, causing many people to gasp and wince.

* * *

" _We aren't on the playground anymore. No, Sir. We are not," Haymitch says in his private interview while he nurses his head wound. The crew anticipates yet another one of his backwards, nonsensical metaphors._

" _The bullies and the dweebs must find a healthy balance of co-existence in order for the food chain to survive. There are people like Beetee, who you thought were at the bottom, but were on top of you for a long time—that's what she said…or sayeth, if we're sounding smarter—and there are people like me. A mama bird trying to feed her young in any way she can. A beautiful, bald, misunderstood eagle who only has the best intentions for her eaglets in mind. Then, there are people like Alma, who abuse their power at the top of the food chain to make the lesser people have no control."_

 _His chest collapses, as if he has just remembered that he has to sort out his problems with his girlfriend tonight too. "Damn, I've still gotta do something about that…Started the day out thinking I was gonna get two feasts, and I'm getting none. Guess the bird dropped the worm."_

* * *

Clove is standing by the copier, back to her usual business, when Cato swoops in.

"The way you fought dirty today was so…smart. So sexy," he practically growls in her ear. Clove does not look back at him, but the cameras can see her smile.

"You know, women naturally look for intelligence in their partners," she answers.

"I'll see you tonight. We can play _Cranium Cadoo_ …among other things."

Cato grins as he stalks away before Clove can answer. The girl at the copier allows herself a few more moments of girlish glee before she returns to her copies.

It is their cocky, painfully uncomfortable way of flirting, and it is almost cute. Almost.

* * *

" _I was going to quit, but Alma offered me a three month paid vacation plus an all-expenses paid trip to Daytona, Florida if I signed something saying I wouldn't sue," Beetee explains, ice pack covering a golf ball sized lump on his forehead where Haymitch banged into him._

 _He grins into the camera. "Who's the dumbass now?"_

* * *

Packing up for the day, Katniss watches Gale vacate his desk and stares longingly at the empty chair, as if looking and waiting long enough will bring Peeta back.

It is clear that she misses him more than she wants to let on.

* * *

" _What makes someone smart? Is it IQ? Is it common sense? Or is it the ability to just know when something is right or wrong?" Haymitch asks, a smile that insinuates that he believes he is spouting wisdom plastered on his drunk face._

" _Well, I think we're all smart here in Twelve. We managed to bring social change around here today. Makes me feel like I'm just doing my job as regional manager right, ya know? If only my personal life could be as easy as my work life…eh, maybe the two are just never meant to be easy at the same time."_

* * *

In New London, everyone has made their way over to the conference room, icily passing over Peeta as they do so. A rumor—true, but not confirmed—went around saying that Peeta messed with Finnick to get ahead in the branch, and people did not take well to this.

The cameras follow the sounds of laughter from behind Peeta. The feast inside of Four's conference room is far more elaborate than what Twelve had received. A huge roast pig sits on the table, and as Finnick and Bonnie raise their glasses to the boss with the weird beard, Seneca takes a bow by the meal.

"Who ordered this pig? I mean look at this pig!" the regional manager proclaims, taking high fives from his employees and a round of applause from Mags.

Sighing, Peeta gathers the things at his desk as he prepares to go into the ethics seminar and eat alone. Something flutters from his jacket pocket. Bending down to pick it up, Peeta wears a sad smile as he runs a finger over the glossy finish of the photo strip of him and Katniss from the Fundraiser Night. He sits down and studies the photo for quite some time.

A hand juts out, startling him. He gazes up into the round face and twinkling blue eyes of Delly Cartwright.

"Hey, Peeta, don't let these sticklers get you down. People here get threatened very easily, and you're a young, handsome, talented salesman. That scares people. Plus, a lot of these guys don't know how to have fun. Sometimes it feels like it's all work and no play around here," she says, tucking a curl behind her ear as she chuckles.

Peeta smirks. "You see, where I'm from, it's the other way around."

They share a laugh at Twelve's expense before he takes her hand and she helps him up off of the floor.

"Sit with me at the seminar?" she asks, her eyes filled with a strange hope.

Tucking the photo strip in his pocket, Peeta nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

* * *

Watching from her car, Katniss counts a measly ten seconds before Cato, holding all of the discarded Feast food in one paper bag, is taken down by the security guard, Jackson. Katniss laughs to herself, and staring over her shoulder at the camera in the backseat, she says:

"A new record! You know, I'm glad that some things around here haven't changed a bit."

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome to Year Two! I hope you enjoyed getting to meet the people from District Four, as well as the usual madness over in Twelve. Stay tuned for episode two! I'm really trying to get year two and possibly year three finished and up before I go back to school at the end of the month, so bear with me if updates start to get sporadic. Thank you so much for your support thus far! I truly appreciate every favorite, follow, review, and reading of this fic! Keep it up!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	7. Year Two: Hijacking

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both The Hunger Games and The Office (US) belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 2, Episode 2: Hijacking**

Quietly humming to herself, Delly Cartwright traipses into District Four's office early Monday morning. Her cheeks are tinged red from the breezy November air and she has a hand-knit scarf wrapped tightly around her pale neck.

She stops in her tracks when she notes that she is not the first one in the office. The cameras pan out to get Peeta, who stands by the fax machine, a weird smirk dancing on his lips, in the shot with her. Delly quickly combs her fingers through her blonde ringlets, dusts off her coat, and approaches him.

"Hey, Peeta!"

The salesman smiles brightly at his co-worker. "Morning, Delly."

She blushes as soon as her name leaves his lips. Curiosity gets the best of her, and she peeks over Peeta's shoulder at the fax machine.

"Who are you faxing so early in the morning?"

Smiling sheepishly, Peeta reaches around to scratch the back of his neck before returning his bemused gaze toward the machine.

"It's a…long story," he says with a nervous laugh. Letting all of her belongings plop to the floor and unraveling the scarf from around her neck, Delly hops onto the nearest desk and smiles warmly at him.

"I've got time. Story beats leftover sales reports any day."

* * *

" _I haven't had a ton of contact with District Twelve since my departure, but before I left, I managed to swipe a box of Cato's stationary. Every so often, I have been sending Cato faxes…from himself…from the future," Peeta explains to the cameras, a devious glint in his eye._

* * *

Storytime with Delly and Peeta is cut short, however, when Seneca Crane comes rushing into the office, shouting something into the phone.

Peeta pulls Delly out of Seneca's line of sight, behind the fax machine. They watch the man with the crazy beard speak in hushed, frantic tones to whoever is on the other line.

"No, I'm telling you…Corporate called me this morning and told me that the board voted to close Twelve's branch. I know…well, we can't say we didn't see it coming. Apparently Coin's going to drop the bomb on all of them today. No, I don't know what's going to happen to me..."

Seneca carries on with his conversation in his office, propping up his feet and plucking blackberries from a bowl in his mini fridge.

Meanwhile, Delly and Peeta, still crouched behind the fax machine, react in shock.

"Oh no, Twelve is closing…" Delly mutters. The camera follows her gaze upward to soak in Peeta's unreadable, blank expression.

"Yeah, I guess so," he says. Without another word, he returns to his computer and types up a new document. Delly watches as he works furiously, concentrating so hard that his tongue pops out of the side of his mouth.

The document prints up, and Peeta rushes it over to the fax machine.

"What are you doing?" Delly inquires.

With a shrug and his signature look, Peeta replies, "I'm warning them."

* * *

The crew, still very intrigued by the relationship that is Haymitch and Alma, decides to take a tour of Haymitch's condo that same morning. Alma had apparently slowly moved in, slightly unbeknownst to Haymitch while it was happening, after her divorce was finalized some time ago.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" Haymitch greets, beckoning every crew member inside before he shuts the door behind him.

The place is noticeably neater from the last time the crew had a glimpse into this condo. Everything is put in its exact place and labeled. Venturing into the kitchen, one of the cameras lingers over a schedule written on a whiteboard in purple marker. Haymitch and Alma's plans for the day are regimented down to the second. All of the kitchen contents have been split into very noticeable categories of what belongs to Haymitch and what belongs to Coin. The latter category is obviously bigger.

There is a huge tarp covering the back wall of the kitchen, which Cressida points out.

Haymitch laughs a little, sounding slightly pained. "Oh, yeah, we're…uh, renovating some stuff. Alma wants a screen door back there, so we're getting a screen door!"

In the living room, he shows off his twenty-four inch plasma screen TV, which he is immensely proud of for putting in himself.

"Alma decided that we weren't going to pay for cable anymore, so we just use her Netflix account," he explains. He goes to turn on the Netflix, and there is only one name to sign in under. Alma. "Yeah, we just use the one. She's got better taste in what we watch than I do, anyway."

Cressida asks why his Victor awards have been shoved into a tiny display case in the corner of the room, Haymitch elaborates that Alma gave him a choice between displaying his prized liquor stash or his 'trophies'.

"I think we all know which one I went for…besides, I've got the greatest trophy of them all in that woman upstairs. Even if I don't agree with some of her _prohibitionist_ policies. Let's go speak to the lady of the house!"

Haymitch takes the stairs two at a time. While ascending the stairs, the crew gets several shots of the art that has lined the walls—all of which are either bad quality black and white photos of Allentown or portraits of Alma with her kids.

The manager cheekily discards of his own camera when everyone reaches the bedroom. No one on the crew is brave enough to ask what it's used for. In the adjoining bathroom, the sounds of off-key singing in the shower can be heard.

"This is the master bedroom!" Haymitch announces. The crew pans over a king sized bed, covered almost entirely in decorative pillows.

Haymitch shrugs.

"Don't ask me what the damn throw pillows are for. Couldn't tell you. We waste about ten minutes every morning and ten minutes every night taking 'em on and off…Alma likes 'em, though. Besides, I don't even sleep on this bed."

Cressida, puzzled, asks where he does sleep.

Sheepishly, as if he is just now starting to realize how imbalanced this relationship he is in happens to be, gestures toward a plush bench at the end of the bed. There is one blanket and a single pillow on either end of it.

"I, uh…sleep there," he starts. Dodging any of the odd looks he suspects are coming his way, Haymitch throws himself on the bench and curls into an uncomfortable ball so that he is made out to fit. "It's comfy, I swear!"

Alma chooses this exact moment to emerge from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wrapped in a huge purple towel. She eyes Haymitch seductively.

"Morning, Tiger," she purrs. Haymitch clears his throat and eyes the cameras. Coin, just noticing them, stiffens and reddens in utter embarrassment.

"Haymitch, get them out of here," she says through gritted teeth.

"Hun, I brought them here to see the condo…"

"I don't care! Get them out! I have a long day ahead of me, and I don't need these cameras in my face any more than they already are!"

"Long day? You said you just had to sort some things out when you got home from last night…"

"Yes, but they're… _big_ things…"

"C'mon, Alma! You never let me do what I want to do. I'm a manager, dammit. Treat me like one!"

Gray eyes flashing, Alma suddenly throws Haymitch for a loop when she tells him that the board has elected to close the District Twelve branch.

Haymitch shoots up from his 'bed', startled.

"On whom's authority?!"

Alma sighs, realizing that now is neither the time nor place for this news to have been delivered to him.

"The board's. The decision was made last night."

"Was this _Snow's_ idea?"

"It was mine, actually," Coin replies coldly.

Haymitch scowls. "You didn't tell me and you knew my branch was closing _last_ night? You let me sleep on this couch knowing that you were going to destroy my branch today?"

"I'm sorry…I know you've been such a big part of this company for so long, and I don't relish in telling you this."

"I don't get it. Our numbers have been getting better, and we…"

Alma, looking like she is very trapped between her business and personal lives right now, stares sadly at her whining boyfriend.

"It's not always about numbers. Sometimes it's about talent."

"Talent? Seneca Crane has _talent_? For what, being a kiss ass?"

"President Snow believes Seneca could play a game-changing role in the company's future," Coin reasons.

"Well, what's going to happen to us?"

"A small number of people will be transferred to Four…the rest will be receiving severance packages."

Clutching the one pillow he owns in his condo, Haymitch eyes his girlfriend disdainfully.

"Which category do I fall under?"

Coin, still dripping wet from the shower, averts her eyes and says that no official personnel decisions have been made yet, but there is a hesitance to her voice.

"But…um, you're a severance package person," she mutters almost inaudibly.

Haymitch then loses what little cool he had left. The cameras follow him as he screams and runs down the stairs. He then proceeds to throw the bottles of liquor from his prized collection against the plasma screen television.

Coin takes this moment to usher the cameras out of the house.

* * *

 _Now in his own personal office, where everything belongs to him, Haymitch is able to speak in private about how he feels about the news._

" _It's…an outrage. They're making a huge mistake up at Corporate. I'd like to see_ Seneca Crane _find another Cinna—Cinnas don't grow on trees—or Wiress, or Caesar. If there's a farm where Wiresses and Caesars sprout from the ground, call Seneca Crane up and let him know."_

 _Getting overwhelmed by emotions again, Haymitch drowns his sorrow in an entire mug of who-knows-what liquor._

" _Alma has asked me to use my discretion around everyone today. How am I supposed to walk around and look these people in the eye when I know that we're all hitting the road, hm? I'm not like her. I don't have the PATIENCE TO PUT THROW PILLOWS ON MY DAMN BED EVERY NIGHT."_

* * *

Cato is the only one in the office who seem to notice Haymitch's odd behavior. The manager hasn't necessarily made his bad mood a secret, however. Haymitch has spent almost the entire morning sulking around the office and talking in cryptic circles about memories and the difficulties of goodbyes.

Brow furrowing, Cato studies the way Haymitch glances longingly at a picture of Cinna and his wife on Cinna's desk (Cinna eyes the cameras in annoyance as he tells Haymitch to go away) before he approaches him.

"Hey, Stranger," Cato says softly. Haymitch rolls his eyes.

"Don't…don't talk like that. It's so weird, Cato."

The salesman shrugs. "We just haven't talked in a while. Anything pressing, urgent going on? Anything you need to get off your chest, Buddy?"

Crinkling his nose, Haymitch pushes Cato out of the way.

"No, just do your job, Cato…"

He turns to the office and outstretches his arms in a grandiose gesture to his employees.

"In fact, all of your should do your jobs! Do them, and do them well…while you still can…"

This manages to peak everyone's attention. The office goes silent as everyone turns to stare at their boss, gauging whether or not this is one of Haymitch's sick pranks.

The manager smiles sadly, or coyly, depending on how people read it, and sluggishly retreats to his office. He leaves his employees wondering if this announcement is real or not real.

* * *

" _Normally, I would think nothing of Haymitch's behavior. When you get close enough with someone, you learn how to read them like a book," Cato says when asked to speak in an interview about Haymitch._

 _He suddenly leans in, staring intensely at the camera. He is about to let everyone in on a secret._

" _Now, normally, I would peg Haymitch's bad mood on him being a surly drunk._ _But this morning, I received a rather prophetic message from my future self—I mean, a reliable source—stating the following…"_

 _Pulling out the neatly folded piece of stationary in his pocket, Cato begins to read:_

"…' _What will be left when Corporate strikes? No one is safe. Not in the Districts. And you, in District Twelve, dead by morning!'…"_

 _He folds the paper back up very carefully, eyes wide with terror._

" _Something weird is definitely going on."_

* * *

"Secret's out, Cheese Buns. Heard your friends in Pennsylvania are stopping at 'Go' without any allowance," Finnick Odair says, impishly waggling his eyebrows as he saunters up to Peeta's desk. "In your face, dude."

Delly is quick to jump to Peeta's defense.

"Oh, don't be a sore winner, Finnick. Those are Peeta's friends."

"Besides, I work here now, so that news doesn't really affect me," Peeta points out.

Finnick simply shrugs. He takes a double dose of sugar cubes from his jar.

"Victory is sweet, my friends. It is oh, so sweet."

Peeta simply looks at the cameras and shrugs defenselessly.

Still relishing in whatever success he's made up in his head, Finnick begins a chant, despite Delly's considerate protests.

"District Four! District Four!" he starts. More and more people join in, clapping and smiling as Finnick prattles on about the District in Pennsylvania.

The beat becomes so catchy and jubilant that Delly looks like she wants to join in, biting her lip with a resistant expression on her face. She glances at Peeta, who sits silently in his seat, and decides against it, instead retreating to the ladies' room.

Seneca, hands jammed in his pockets, emerges from his office at the sound of the commotion. There is blackberry juice staining his lips, and they seem to appear purple and lifeless.

"What's going on?" he asks Peeta. The salesman bites his lip.

"I think the word got out about Twelve."

Seneca makes a noise of faint recognition to his surroundings, running his fingers over the complicated patterns of his beard. Choosing to take advantage of his boss' information while he has him, Peeta asks the question that must have been burning in the back of his mind all morning.

"Do you know if anyone from Allentown is transferring here? Like sales, or accounting, or…?"

"Mm, no. Nothing's definite," Seneca says quickly, dismissively. He turns to face the mosh pit of celebratory chanting. "Hey, everyone. I know you've been hearing rumors left and right, but let's just try and keep doing what we do around here, okay? You guys have all been great."

Finnick then draws everyone's attention to the exact opposite of what Seneca has just asked for.

"Here he is! Our fearless leader: Seneca Crane! Take a bow, Seneca!"

The manager politely refuses and ducks back into his office. The cameras watch him make another call that looks to be top secret while everyone else keeps chanting.

Peeta, meanwhile, looks absolutely torn up at his desk.

* * *

" _It would be weird if people from Twelve came here," he admits to the cameras in a private interview. "I mean…wouldn't you find it weird if you went to college, far. far away from your crazy extended family, and those relatives found a way to enroll in the school, become your roommates, and take every single one of your classes and activities with you?"_

* * *

Katniss is quick to pounce on Haymitch for answers when he lingers by her desk.

"Haymitch, what's going on? What did you mean that we should do our jobs while we still can?" she asks, causing Haymitch to stammer weakly in response. Cato is immediately at his side.

"Were you telling a joke? Not one of your funnier ones, but I'll laugh if you need me to, Haymitch."

The boss sighs dramatically, and Katniss and Cato exchange a look.

* * *

" _All I can do right now is put on a brave face and be the fearless leader I need to be for these people," Haymitch says, nervously chomping on his nails. "Also, a part of me just want to tell them to spite my sneaky girlfriend."_

* * *

"Attention, everyone!"

For once, this announcement gets everyone's undivided attention.

Sighing dramatically, Haymitch tells his men and women that it is over for the branch.

"We're done. Screwed. There is no District Twelve. Fire the cannons of defeat. District Twelve is closing."

Amid gasps of shock and murmurs of horror, Effie speaks up.

"Haymitch, we really shouldn't be talking about this until all of the final decisions have been made," she says, always a stickler for abiding by the rule book that Corporate enforces on people like her and Haymitch, who are responsible for running the office.

As usual, Haymitch immediately turns her into the bad cop for what he views as her surreptitious dissent.

"You knew about this all along, didn't you, Trinket?"

"Alma called me this morning…she told me that you knew…"

"Traitor. You are a technicolored traitor," Haymitch announces, pointing a trembling finger her way.

Wiress, who has been mumbling to herself, leans against the copier for support and asks, "What's going to happen to us? Do we still have our jobs?"

Haymitch shrugs and shakes his head before downing a good sip out of his mug. "I don't know, probably not. Now, we must face the imminent probability of our swift, gruesome demise. This is the _worst_."

He makes a face that would be comical if the situation weren't so sad. No one knows what to do or say.

Fighting an onslaught of emotion, Haymitch tells his troops to keep doing the best jobs that they can. As he speaks, the cameras cut to the varying looks of shock and sadness around the room.

* * *

" _It's no surprise, honestly," Clove tells the cameras when asked how she feels about District Twelve closing. "I won't blame anyone in particular…but essentially anyone who works in this office is to blame."_

* * *

 _Effie's painted-on lips are etched in a frown when she is asked to speak on what is happening in the office._

" _It is truly unfortunate. Truly. I mean, we're a team. That's how this office functions best: under teamwork. And now that the branch is closing, every man is going to be fighting for himself. There is no 'I' in 'TEAM'…"_

 _She pauses, thinking about something that is entirely her own fantasy by the way her lips twitch in a girlish, gleeful manner._

" _There is an 'I' in 'PARIS', however."_

* * *

In the break room, the crew follows the sounds of what appears to be animal-like screeching. Upon closer inspection, the sounds are coming from a very distraught Madge Undersee as she cries in Gale's arms.

Her speech garbled by her tears, Madge goes on for a long while in one, drawn out whine that neither Gale nor the cameras can decipher.

"I know, Madge, it's just…if you're working somewhere else and I'm working somewhere else, it's going to be hard for us to have a relationship. You understand that, right?"

Sobbing harder, she nods.

Wiping tears and trails of mascara from under her eyes, Madge puts on a brave face and stares at her former boyfriend.

"What we had was short, but beautiful, Gale Hawthorne. Like Rose and Jack in the _Titanic_ movie, we didn't get the ending we deserved."

Gale, mirroring the brave face and feigning sadness, nods.

"You're right. We can only blame Corporate for this."

She goes back to crying, and Gale just holds her. He spots the cameras watching them.

* * *

" _It's just…it works out perfectly," Gale says, looking all kinds of overjoyed. "I get resume-building credit. Haymitch will write me a great recommendation to move onto higher ranks. And Madge?"_

 _Gale sighs, but it sounds more like relief than agony. "You know, if you love something, you've gotta let it go."_

* * *

" _It's a blessing in disguise, really. In my fantasies I always imagined I'd make this huge scene and quit—some liberating music would be playing in my head like the end of_ Shawshenk Redemption _—but this works too," Katniss says, upbeat and optimistic in her private interview._

" _Besides, this may be a chance for me to really focus on my music. I've been taking that class, and we have our first concert of the year tonight."_

 _She holds up her workbook, where the lines on a page of music have been scribbled in with a series of about four notes in different succession and variation._

" _It's not much, but it's a start. I've been getting help from the youngest girl in the class, Rue. She's my only friend there, and she just gets it so much better than I do…but she's been helpful. Theory is hard, and I'm making due with the melody I came up with. I hope, since people's schedules are free now, that my co-workers can come tonight."_

* * *

Sitting in the adjoining room with a stack of fliers for her concert, Katniss rushes up to Gale as soon as he and Madge part ways.

"Hey, Gale, I was wondering…"

"Sure, I'll go out with you. I'm single now," he says quickly.

Katniss chooses to ignore it and proceed with her original request. "My music class has this concert tonight, and would love it if you could come…"

Realizing that this requires work and not an easy pass to a date with Katniss, Gale dismisses the request by returning to his charade of sadness.

"Oh…I'll, um, I'll try to make it. I'm just going through a really difficult breakup right now…"

Katniss eyes him skeptically before offering a lame hand on his shoulder.

"No, I understand! I appreciate it, Gale."

He stalks off, and Katniss presses her lips together sadly.

* * *

Haymitch, claiming that he wants one last peruse of his lay of the land, finds himself wandering around the warehouse.

Boggs offers him a tenuous hello. Haymitch salutes. Darius and Homes round the corner to see what their soon-to-be-ex boss is up to now.

"Boggs."

"Hey, man…I heard about the closing. Tough break," Boggs begins as he hauls a huge box of coal off of the bed of a truck.

Haymitch exhales loudly and smiles for the cameras.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm going to land on my feet. Hit the ground running. Twenty-five years, and I've still got a spark left in me," Haymitch says, more for his own sake than for anyone else's. "And you guys here in the warehouse, you'll be fine. You're capable, and smart…"

Boggs worriedly glances at the camera.

"Oh, you didn't hear? The guys at Town Square Renovations upstairs bought out the warehouse. They're keeping all of us. We're actually fine."

As much as it pains him to say it, Haymitch congratulates the warehouse guys.

* * *

" _Un-be-lieve-a-ble! The President thinks he can come into_ my _District and change all of the rules?" Haymitch says angrily as he throws on his coat. "No. Nuh-uh. He can't take my District and give it to Seneca Crane, who is giving the warehouse to Town Square Renovations. Something has to be done."_

* * *

"Attention, everyone!"

He gets less attention than he did earlier today.

"Some of you may have heard rumors about the branch closing…" Haymitch starts.

"You explicitly told us exactly that," Johanna deadpans.

"I am not going to sit idly by and let Snow control us. I have a plan, and I am going to save us from this tyranny. We're going to the capitol of this company in New York, confronting Snow, showing him how huge his crappy mistake is, and then we are saving the company."

Cato's hand shoots up. "I volunteer as a contributor to this worthy cause!" he declares, rising like a soldier and standing at attention.

Haymitch stares pointedly at Cato. "Get your coat. Let's go."

As Cato cheers for himself, Katniss sarcastically chimes in.

"Oh good, you're going to enlist Cato on this rescue mission. The President's going to face the wrath of a gladiator sword."

"Fair point. Give me Hawthorne too."

Gale looks like he wants to object, while Cato shouts out in protest.

"You still work for me, you moody punk," Haymitch reads Gale like an open book. "You're coming."

"That's what she said," Cato remarks.

Haymitch looks livid. "Don't you even dare, Cato. I'll fire you before Corporate can."

Haymitch snaps his fingers and rushes his rescue mission along. Gale glowers into the cameras as Cato pulls him by the arm to get him out of his seat. Reluctantly, the newest salesman joins the ragtag rescue mission.

"We're doomed," Johanna remarks as they exit.

Cato calls shotgun as the elevator doors close on him, a determined-looking Haymitch, and terrified Gale Hawthorne.

* * *

In the car, a low-quality camera has been planted on Haymitch's rear-view mirror to capture any happenings. Haymitch driving like a madman, Gale sits in the middle of the backseat while Cato speaks hurriedly into his cell phone.

Cato hangs up and informs the rescue mission team that Snow is out of the office for the day.

"Damnit!" Haymitch hisses.

"Don't worry…I have his home address in my phone saved somewhere," Cato quips, scrolling through his contacts on his phone.

Gale rubs his eyes in frustration. "Why, dare I ask, do you have the company President's home address in your cell?"

"Why can't you make a sale, Lumberjack Boy?" Cato snarls as he twists his body around in his seat.

Haymitch tells his men to cool it.

"We're all in this together, guys."

"Like the Zac Efron song?" Cato follows up. "From _The High School Production_?"

"Whatever, Cato," Haymitch spits, ignoring the butchered title of the Disney Channel movie. "Just give me the address."

Gale's eyes widen. "We're going to Snow's house!?"

Haymitch rolls his eyes in the driver's seat. "No, Gale, we're selling him magazines…of course we're going to his house! We have a mission. There's a squad back there that needs us to pull through."

Cato tells Haymitch they missed the first right turn in the directions, and Haymitch grumbles in response.

* * *

Alma arrives in New London and is met with good spirits from everyone in the office.

She beckons for Peeta to join her in Seneca's office—where the blinds have been drawn and the door has been shut ever since the last time he spoke with Peeta.

"Let's talk logistics," she chirps as she knocks on Seneca's door. There is no answer from the other side, but neither Alma nor Peeta notices. "I'm assuming Seneca briefed you on being the number two in the office once he steps up…"

Peeta, pleasantly surprised, shakes his head. "No, he didn't mention that. Actually, he kept telling me not to worry about the changes…"

Coin smiles. "Typical Seneca. Keeping things mum. Well, you'll hear all about it."

She opens the door.

Both of them are shocked to find the office dark and empty. Coin flips on the lights, and sitting on Seneca's desk is a letter of resignation and a half-eaten bowl of blackberries.

"…'Dear Alma, I'm sorry, I couldn't handle the pressure of running the Northeast branches, so I am afraid I must step down. As of today, I have accepted a senior management position at PPL.'—" Alma throws down the letter and huffs. "Unbelievable. He leveraged his promotion to get a better offer somewhere else. This whole restructuring was based around him."

Spewing with anger, she says that she has to make a few calls before bustling past Peeta and into the office, where Finnick, Delly, Bonnie, and Mags all watch her storm away.

* * *

 _Still stunned, Peeta says, "You know, Haymitch Abernathy is a real piece of work, but he would_ never _do something like that."_

* * *

At his desk, Cinna can be seen humming to himself as he happily packs his belongings into a box.

Wiress, still teary-eyed from the news, stares up at him with sad, wide eyes.

"Cinna—I, I was going around and asking everyone where they think we should have our last dinner together as a branch…and…Clove doesn't want to drive very far, and Caesar wants to go to Rooba's Steak House, but I don't know if you wanted any say…"

Cinna beams at his very upset desk-clump mate.

"Wiress, darling, I will eat anywhere and anything. Because as soon as this baby burns down, I am taking my severance and shipping off to Hawaii with Portia. It's all pina coladas and smooth sailing from here."

Sniffling, Wiress nods.

"I'll put you down for Rooba's, then…"

* * *

Others, such as Sae, have different matters on their minds.

Sae quietly mills around the office, taking photographs of various office supplies and furniture. The cameras follow her to where she sets herself and her camera up at the computer, uploading all of the photos into a file she has labeled, "EBAY".

Throughout the day, various shady-looking people come into the office and exchange the items around the office for huge clumps of money.

Less than discreet about what she is doing, Sae snickers as her latest prospect leaves with a laser printer. She begins counting her money, and Clove watches her with disdainful eyes.

* * *

 _Johanna, meanwhile, is also on a hunt around the office, as she reveals in a private interview._

" _About five years ago, I made a pact with_ someone _in this office that we would sleep together on the last day we worked together. I can't remember who the hell it was. Beetee's out, mainly because he won't answer any of my phonecalls. As much as I wish it was, it couldn't be Lumberjack Boy. Anyway, I've gotta figure out who it was before today ends and I never see these people again."_

* * *

"Here we are! Coriolanus Snow's mansion!" Haymitch announces in front of a huge estate. Cato bounds up the long walkway to the front door, and Gale trudges slowly behind.

The cameras follow Haymitch as he speaks while walking backwards.

"I can't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out that we aren't backing down."

"Do you know what you're going to say?" Cato asks excitedly, hand just about to come hammering down on the button to open the gate. "Because once I knock on that door, there's no going back."

"I think I'm gonna speak from the heart."

"No, that's lame."

"We should probably turn around and go back to Allentown and let the people in charge figure out what to do," Gale suggests.

Cato scoffs at Gale's insinuation.

"Even lamer. Look, Haymitch, you need an attack plan. Tell him that if we burn, he is going to burn with us," Cato says severely, his eyes burning.

"That's good. I'll use that."

Cato buzzes the gate-keeper numerous times. No one, it appears, is home.

"That should be our cue to _go…_ " Gale urges.

"Or, it's our cue to stay, stake him out, and win this battle," Haymitch suggests the far more outrageous alternative. He is met with agreement from Cato.

"Two against one, Lumberjack Boy. We're staking him out!"

"Staking him out!" Haymitch bellows.

Gale just walks back to the car and lies down in the back seat.

Cato then suggests they do a practice round. Haymitch glances nervously into Snow's front window, but agrees.

"La, la, la…I'm coming home from work. I'm President Snow…" Cato says in a phony accent as he rounds the corner where the gate of Snow's mansion lies.

"Excuse me, Mr. President."

"That is I, luminous white beard and all," Cato says in his best sinister sounding voice to emulate Snow. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Can you tell us why you are shutting down District Twelve and leaving everyone there out of work? These are feeling, thinking human beings…"

Cato, playing Snow, puts his hand on Haymitch's shoulder and smiles wickedly.

"Haymitch, the branch is no longer financially viable. We're losing money. It is not a charity we run, but a business, and a dying one at that. The small business model of the regional coal-powered electric company really doesn't make sense for the modern day and age…I'm sorry, but it's the things we love most that destroy us."

"Whoa, stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"He's not gonna say any of that."

"I'm stating facts, Haymitch."

"No, he would be way more intimidated by me," Haymitch shouts in frustration. "Start over, and be more scared of me, alright?"

Cato sends the cameras a knowing look that seems to say he is well aware that this scenario that Haymitch desires is not plausible, but he proceeds anyway, jumping in shock this time when Haymitch calls him 'Snow'.

* * *

"Katniss."

Madge shoves a book in Katniss' face and sniffles.

"Will— _sniffle—_ you— _sniffle—_ please sign— _sniffle_ —my company directory?"

Katniss starts to snort. "You're serious?"

Madge sends her a look that screams seriousness, and Katniss quickly takes the book and fumbles for a pen. Madge watches her scribble away in the directory before gasping in disgust.

"…'Madge, best wishes. Love Katniss'?" she rereads accusingly. "I've eaten lunch with you for, like, ever and that's all I get?"

Katniss dodges the oncoming set of sniffles and continues the message, saying it aloud as she writes.

"P.S. – 'Although we did not talk much, the times we spent together have truly meant _so much_ to me. Our lunches were always really nice. What a long, strange trip it has been'..."

Madge laughs a little through her tears as she takes the directory.

"It's been _so wild_ , Kat."

Katniss grins softly. Before Madge goes, the receptionist hands her a flier and asks if she would like to come to the concert tonight.

"Concert? Like what my parents used to force me to do from the moment I could reach the keys on a piano?"

As this conversation goes on, Darius emerges from the break room with a soda. He starts to listen in.

"Yeah, it's sort of a beginner thing, but I'd be really appreciative if some people from the office could come. I didn't know you played piano, Madge."

"Mhmm," Madge says, for once uninterested in talking about herself. She looks as though she is fishing for a good excuse as she keeps talking. "Concertos and sonatas and stuff, but this sounds…super cute, too. I'll see if I can squeeze it in tonight. My dad—Undersee 2016!—might need me, so…Plus, it's been, like… _such_ a stressful day. Gale and I had to split—amicably—and you know, we're all gonna get fired, and…"

"Oh, okay. Well, no worries if you can't make it," Katniss says, shaking it off.

Madge starts sniffling out of nowhere again. This time, it seems premeditated.

"We could have played such beautiful music together, Katniss," she says before running back to the annex.

Darius swings by the desk as soon as Madge is out of sight.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the whole closing thing. It's gonna suck around here without you," he offers as he cracks the soda open. A spray of it gets all over her stack of concert fliers.

"It's okay. I'm actually really fine with it," Katniss answers him, blotting the soda off of the stack of paper with her sleeve.

Darius looks a bit hurt by this, as if she means she is fine with being separated from him specifically.

"Oh," he remarks, wounded. "Know what you're gonna do, then?"

She shrugs. "There's music school."

He lights up and grins—huge and dopey—at her.

"Yeah! You should definitely do that!"

The smile Katniss wears is an uncomfortable one.

"I…um. I already am. I started taking classes a while ago."

Darius looks like he wants to crack his soda can over his head. "Right, yeah…well, that's terrific. Good for you, Katniss. You were always good at those little songs and stuff."

The gangly redhead appears as though he is floundering, choking on his nerves just by being in Katniss' presence. Staring between her flustered ex and the stack of soaked fliers, she throws him a bone and invites him to the concert.

Darius grins and holds up one of the drier concert handouts.

"I'd love to come and support you," he says, earning himself a warm smile from his former fiancée.

"Thanks, Darius."

* * *

Alma returns to the scene of Seneca's fleeing crime, where Peeta waits anxiously in a chair. She appears to be extremely strung out, compared to her usual competent self.

"Okay, well, we're still scrambling…but it looks like Twelve is going to be absorbing Four."

Peeta reels back at this announcement.

"Oh, wow."

"And I know, you just transferred less than six months ago, but if you're still willing…we're going to be offering you the number two position there," Coin says expectantly.

Peeta smiles politely, although he is visibly discomforted by the suggestion. "Oh, thank you. I just…to be honest with you, Alma, I left Twelve with some pretty unpleasant memories."

Alma sighs knowingly.

"Haymitch?"

Peeta laughs. "Surprisingly, no. It was—other stuff. Personal stuff. I don't know if I am ready to revisit that."

"Ah," Alma says, her professional composure crumpling again. Her voice is strained. "Well, please think about it, Peeta, and let me know. We will do whatever we can to get you to stay."

Coin makes it very clear that she is fighting to rescue Peeta almost over anyone else. She leaves Peeta with a very important decision to make.

* * *

" _I just got comfortable here. I just started to move on. Five months isn't enough time for me to just forgive and forget, you know?" Peeta tells the cameras as he struggles out loud to grapple with his emotions._

 _Castor calmly asks him if he thinks that he will end up taking the job._

 _Peeta shrugs, clearly torn up. "I really don't know," he admits softly._

* * *

Caesar has been speaking into a tape recorder all day. He has chosen to narrate what is going on around the office, but since he is supposed to still be doing his work, most of the narration ends up being about what Clove is doing right across from him. This annoys the female accountant to no end.

Johanna, hands sheepishly behind her back, sidles up to the table, which Caesar narrates.

"Hey, Big C!" she greets him, laughing nervously as she delivers a playful punch to his forearm. It is much stronger than she anticipates it being, however, and Caesar falls out of his chair.

"It appears as though I have fallen," Caesar speaks into the tape recorder.

Without offering to help him up, Johanna gets right to the point.

"Caesar, did we ever…make a pact that we would do something on the last day of work? Do you remember us talking about that at all?"

Caesar pauses, tapping his chin pensively.

"Perhaps...?"

Her eyebrows arch. "Perhaps? What kind of perhaps is that 'perhaps'?"

Caesar lights up and begins to bark out his infamous laugh.

"Oh, yes! Now I remember!" he gazes into the cameras and adds, "It's a good one!"

Johanna grows worried, fearful that Caesar is the one she sealed a deal with all those years ago.

"Out with it, Flickerman!"

Caesar giggles. "Once, you called me an idiot..."

"I call you that almost every day," Johanna snaps.

"But this time was different. You said one day, after work, you would stick your axe in my face," Caesar replies. He bursts into his loud cackle again when he exclaims, "And you never did!"

Johanna looks as though she wants to uphold that promise to him as Caesar laughs at her expense.

" _That's_ the deal you were talking about? There wasn't a much... _better..._ one?"

"No, no! Johanna Mason! This has been a tearful day for us all, but I see no tears in your eyes."

"Because I'll be happy to get away from morons like you," Johanna grumbles.

"Amen," Clove echoes, almost taking the Lord's name in vain. Almost.

Caesar suddenly becomes serious, his bright blue eyebrows knitting together in an earnest plea. "But Johanna, now that we are never going to see each other again, we _must_ make plans! We could be gym buddies, or we could catch a flick at the local movie theater—I promise I won't make too much commentary—or…"

Johanna tosses her hair over her shoulder and sighs.

"It's literally not even worth it," she says to the cameras as she walks off. Caesar goes back to documenting her departure on his tape recorder.

* * *

Alma is dismayed yet again when she returns to District Twelve and sees no one doing their work.

When she looks into Haymitch's office and sees that he isn't there, she is horror-stricken.

"Where is Haymitch?"

Katniss shrugs. "We aren't sure. He left this morning."

"What's going on here?" she asks, regarding the fact that Johanna's rifling through several little black books, Sae is exchanging the office microwave with a man in a threadbare coat, Caesar is repeating Alma's every move into his recording device, Madge is sobbing, and Cato and Gale are missing in action.

"We know about the branch closing. Haymitch told us," Wiress says icily, shoving some of her belongings into a box.

"Thank you, Alma!" Cinna chirps.

Coin curses under her breath and calls everyone in to pay close attention to what she has to say.

"Everyone, your branch is not closing. District Four is closing. All of your jobs are safe."

The room goes up in cheers. Caesar and Clove share an usually warm embrace, that's how overjoyed they are to hold onto their jobs. Madge and Wiress flank a very disappointed Cinna and hug him tightly. Sae backs away slowly.

Alma begins to pack up to drive another several hundred miles to New York Corporate headquarters when Katniss stops her.

"Did Haymitch actually rescue us?"

Distracted, Alma tells her that reasons aren't important, but she should try and get in touch with Haymitch about this as soon as possible.

"Isn't he your boyfriend?" Katniss asks.

Cheeks cherry red with embarrassment, Coin nods slowly.

"This is a business matter, however, and business matters stay outside of our house."

"You're living with him? Why? I didn't think your relationship was actually as serious as Haymitch says..."

"Again, reasons aren't important, Katniss."

"Didn't you tell him about this whole closing debacle this morning in your house?"

Alma huffs. "Can you just call him, Katniss? He needs to know what's going on."

"Okay…hey, Alma?"

"Yes?"

Katniss bites her lip hesitantly before proceeding. "Do you know if anyone is coming back to Allentown?"

"Huh? Back?"

"I mean is anyone coming _to_ Allentown. To."

Coin, still in a flurry of messages on her phone and half-listening to Katniss, grants her a moment of eye contact.

"Uh, nothing's definite, but yes. I think a few people. Maybe," she says as she hurries off to her next destination. Katniss gives the cameras a small smile of reassurance among the celebrations of her co-workers.

* * *

Over in New York, Haymitch and Gale lay on the hood of Haymitch's car while Cato picks through Snow's trash.

"I'm starving," Gale whines. "Can we please take a break or something and get some food?"

"Negative, Hawthorne. Abandon your post? Miss your target? What kind of soldier are you?" Haymitch spits back. He points up at the sky. "Rabbit. That cloud looks like a rabbit."

"I'm a hungry soldier that's being held hostage," Gale grumbles. "And it doesn't look like a rabbit. Where the hell do you see a rabbit?"

Haymitch's ringtone, which sounds an awful lot like 'We Can't Stop' by Miley Cyrus, suddenly breaks the men from their hangry, cloud-watching daze. The manager checks who is calling before putting the phone back in his pocket.

"You're not gonna take that?" Gale asks.

"No, it's the office. I can't answer until I've got good news for them."

"Hey, guys!" Cato shouts from afar. The camera follows the sound of his voice and finds him perched on the edge of Snow's dumpster.

"Check it out! It's a bloody handkerchief! Probably has Snow's blood all over it…"

Haymitch props himself up on his elbows and barks, "Damnit, Cato! Don't touch that!"

* * *

" _The sun is setting, I haven't eaten in almost a day, there is no wireless service in this neighborhood, and once night falls, my only company will be Haymitch and Cato…" Gale says, pulling his jacket a little tighter around his shoulders. Behind him, Haymitch chases Cato out of the dumpster he accidentally fell into._

" _I'm definitely going to die tonight," Gale adds, eyes wide._

* * *

In New London, Connecticut, the employees have discovered that there has been a change of events.

The odds, it seems, are not in District Four's favor.

"Peeta Mellark, Cheese Buns, old buddy," Finnick says, swiveling around in his chair. "How are you holding up? Think you're getting transferred to Twelve?"

Peeta shrugs. "I don't know. Alma offered me a job back there, but I'm still on the fence…"

"I'm not worried," Finnick quips. The cameras zoom in on a very intricate knot that he has begun to tie with a large rope from his desk drawer. "Even if I don't get transferred, I'll probably be fine. Yale has an extensive alumni network. I could teach, coach the swim team…"

"Wait," Peeta says. "Where did you go to college?"

Finnick's expression falters, and his fingers quicken with the rope.

"Yale."

Peeta pretends that this is the first time he has heard this factoid, which causes Finnick to scowl and tie some more knots.

Just then, Mags slowly enters the sales area. She has her bag clutched in her hands and her eyes are weighted with the sadness of an oncoming goodbye.

Finnick, who very clearly has a special kinship with the older woman, registers right away what she has come over to say.

"Mags, no…"

The woman, fighting back tears, nods. She places a hand over Finnick's heart, smiles warmly, and leaves the office for good. The whole time, Finnick is calling after her.

"Mags!"

But she has resigned, sacrificing herself to insure that one more person still has a job.

Finnick tries to remain calm, but his overwhelming emotions cause him to retreat to the kitchen, where he starts screaming and thrashing his rope around.

Sighing as he watches Finnick go mad, Peeta looks into the camera worriedly.

* * *

 _Delly Cartwright is all smiles when asked in a private interview how she feels about the branch closing and if she thinks she will be transferred._

" _It's not ideal, of course…but I've always been taught to stay optimistic. My dad owns this cute little shoe shop in Hartford, where I'm from, and he starts every morning off with Frank Sinatra's 'High Hopes' blaring through his store. I have to have high hopes."_

 _When Castor asks how the tune goes, she starts to hum the song, her infectious smile giving the room a much needed brightening._

* * *

Peeta smirks and turns around when he feels a paper clip hit the back of his head.

"Know what you're going to do yet, Bread Boy?" Delly asks, a coy smile playing on her freckly face.

Peeta shakes his head. "I've got nothing."

"Well, hey. Happy thoughts. Just think happy thoughts."

"Thanks, Dell."

"That's what I'm here for."

"How about you, Curly Q…how are you?"

She giggles. He has called her this from time to time, due to how curly her blonde hair is, and it always has the same effect on her.

"I've got high hopes. I'll be happy if I get to keep my job," she tells him, chin up and all smiles.

Peeta's brows knit together. "Really? New York City is three hours away, and you'd rather move an extra hour to Allentown, Pennsylvania?"

Delly continues to smile, despite his skeptical tone.

"Yeah. I don't know…I think I wouldn't mind it there. It's the third largest city in Pennsylvania…"

" _New York City_ , Curly Q. If I were you, I'd pick New York over Allentown. Easily."

Delly hides her obvious hurt. Peeta, she seems to think, is insinuating that he specifically doesn't want her in Allentown.

"Yeah," she says, disappointment creeping into her voice. "I might look into that."

She returns to her work, and for the first time, the cameras catch her frowning.

So does Peeta.

* * *

"Three hundred ninety-nine…four hundred…I'm rich, baby!" Sae cheers as Johanna rushes past her to answer the ringing phone on her desk.

"Johanna Mason," she says.

" _Hey, Jo,"_ the cameras hear someone on the other end purr.

"Who's this?"

" _Donald Blight. Worked with you in District Seven back in the day."_

"Oh, yeah!"

" _Listen…I heard through the grapevine that Twelve is closing, and it got me thinking about our_ deal _from so long ago. You still up for it?"_

Johanna's eyes go wide. "Oh well, actually…"

She looks around. She realizes no one in the office will know or care if she lies to Donald Blight from District Seven.

"Can you be at my place tomorrow night?"

" _Sounds like a plan, Hot Stuff."_

Johanna hangs up, sharing a bemused smile with herself.

* * *

Sitting in Haymitch's car, the three men continue to wait into the night for Snow, who has still yet to return home.

"What if this doesn't work, boys? What if the branch actually goes under?" Haymitch asks, voice hollow.

Just ask Gale starts to say, "We go home…" Cato grabs Gale and Haymitch's knees.

"Then we went down with honor. We can still do that. Bring honor to our District."

For once, no one tells Cato to shut up.

"Say, let's all go around and share our top ten moments at Panem," Haymitch suggests. Gale groans. "Cato, why don't you start us off?"

Eagerly accepting this challenge, Cato straightens his spine and ponders this question as if his life depends on it.

"Hmm…definitely my first day—when you hazed me by pretending that I had to kill someone in the office by the end of the day. That one's up there."

Nodding reverently and staring into the cameras as he bursts into a fit of laughter alongside Cato in the driver's seat, Haymitch exclaims, "Lesson learned…"

"Wiress almost lost her life that day," Cato says, still laughing as if this particularly dark memory that Cato alludes to is not horrifying. This sentiment is projected in Gale's terrified expression.

Cato continues to list his top Panem memories.

"My first sale—something you'll never get to experience, Lumberjack Boy…bummer…"

Gale shoots the cameras a look that seems to say he has given up entirely.

"—the Games, the parties…" Cato suddenly stops his train of thought and turns very serious as he stares Haymitch down with ferocious intensity. "When you gave me a score of 12."

"Okay, you have officially made it weird, Cato," Haymitch says, cutting him off.

"What were some of your favorite moments, Haymitch?" Cato asks. Gale begins to bang his head against the car window.

"Mine? God…I loved them all," Haymitch says wistfully, staring up at the car ceiling. He begins to cry-slash-moan, stating that this was a stupid idea and that the games are over.

In the back seat, Gale's text tone goes off. He has gotten a moment of service. The cameras peer over his shoulder to see five missed calls and about thirty texts from Madge.

He opens his phone, and the text reads:

 _YAYAYAYAYAY WE DON'T HAVE TO BREAK UP ANYMORE!_

This is followed by about a dozen texts comprising of solely love-themed emojis. Gale looks puzzled as he salvages the service and types back.

 _Huh?_

Madge responds in record time.

 _Four is closing, not us! A bunch of us are going to the Hob to celebrate! You better get over here so I can give you a getting-back-together kiss!_

Gale, stunned, responds.

 _Haha, sounds great. I'll do my best. Congratulations, Madge._

"Did you even love when you found out the branch was closing?" Cato asks, still very much into the game of Top Moments. Haymitch, still forlorn, cusses him out again.

"Hey, guys…" the former temp tries to speak up, only to be cut off by more moaning and groaning from Haymitch and Cato's subsequent over-attention to the boss.

Haymitch is too busy at his one man pity party to listen to Gale.

"I'm such a stupid idiot. I let everyone down. I lost everyone's jobs. NOBODY LIKES ME ANYMORE!"

"I LIKE YOU!" Cato shouts.

"YOU DON'T COUNT. YOU CAN STOP KISSING MY ASS, BY THE WAY. WE'RE ALL UNEMPLOYED."

"I WILL KISS YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF TIME, HAYMITCH ABERNATHY."

"Hey!" Gale shouts, sharply enough to get the two whiners in the front to snap their heads around and face him. "We're _not_ closing. Four is closing."

"We did it?" Haymitch, in disbelief, inquires.

Cato laughs joyously. "We did it!"

The two of them exit the car, screaming "WE DID IT!" at the top of their lungs as they encircle the vehicle. Gale shakes his head, but his smile is unmistakable.

* * *

Delly is just about to finish working when the shiny foil wrapping of sour cream and onion chips is placed on her desk. Grinning to herself, she looks up to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at her.

"I know they're your favorite," Peeta says warmly, nudging the bag of chips in her direction. She takes them and presses a smile onto her face. "Hey, Delly…I think I'm gonna take that job. And if they offer you a position in Twelve—and I've got high hopes that they will—I think you should take it."

Delly's smile shifts into one that is far more genuine.

"Thanks, Peeta. I will consider it."

* * *

" _I'm really happy he said that," Delly tells the cameras in a private interview. She is the last one remaining in the office. "I don't think he's into me like that…but I really like him."_

 _She laughs nervously and twiddles one of her blonde ringlets fondly around her finger, obviously thinking of the nickname he has coined for her._

" _So, there you go," she tells the cameras with a breath of courage. "We'll see what happens."_

* * *

People mill about the auditorium in the rec center, congratulating the student performers on their compositions and performances. Beside each student, a music stand with the composition rests. We see on Katniss' stand the same composition consisting of variations of the four notes she had shown earlier in her private interview.

Standing beside Katniss is a girl that appears to be the same age as Primrose. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkle with gratitude and pride as a few professors from a local liberal arts school compliment her work.

Tugging nervously on the long black sleeves of her recital dress, Katniss glances at the other girl, Rue, who gives her a reassuring smile.

Occasionally, Katniss' eyes skitter over the thinning crowd, toward the doors. No one from the office is present. She bites her lip expectantly, as if she expects one of them, any of them, to magically appear.

"Where's the 'doofus' that you were going to marry?" the younger girl whispers to Katniss.

The aspiring musician sighs and holds up her phone. "He called me right before I went on to tell me he thought that this was _tomorrow_ night, and that he promised his warehouse buddies he would go out with them tonight. I think that must have been why I messed up my bridge section…"

The girl snorts. "You dumped his pathetic ass, right?"

Katniss laughs.

"Yes, I did."

" _Good_."

Rolling her eyes, Katniss playfully jabs the girl in the side.

"Okay, go greet your adoring fans now, Rue. I'm sure everyone wants to talk to the protégée of the evening."

Rue's eyes sparkle, but the rest of her body language denounces the compliment from her classmate. "Nah, that wasn't my best…"

"Then I'd hate to see your best, because that was amazing."

Two adults bearing striking resemblance to Rue, who have been speaking to the raving professors while this conversation has been going on, wave the young girl over.

Rue eyes Katniss wearily. "You sure you'll be alright if I go?"

Katniss laughs airily. "Yes, Rue. I'll be fine. I can drive myself home, I'm a big girl. Now, _go_!"

The girl skips off, shaking hands with the professors and politely making eye contact as she is awarded great praise.

Meanwhile, the professors who have been peering over Katniss' piece begin whispering rather loudly among themselves.

"Quite…simple, this piece. Just four notes. G, B flat, A, D. That's all she used. A bit mediocre. Don't you think, Professor Marsh?"

The old man with the long white beard and wired spectacles nods in agreement. Katniss tries hard to pretend she can't hear them before she hangs her head to conceal her face from the cameras.

"Mm. I thought it was a safe venture, even for a beginner. Music takes honesty, courage…neither of those seem to be this composer's strong suits. What can you do with just four notes?"

"A lot, actually," another voice, gruff and tilted by alcohol, pipes up.

Katniss' head shoots up and her eyes register with shock as she takes in the sight of Haymitch Abernathy, dressed quite nicely in a button-down shirt and jacket. He has a program in his hand, and the cameras zoom in on where he has put a star next to Katniss' name.

"Thought this was the best piece of the night, and I am the manager of a very prestigious company, so I would know."

Katniss eyes him in utter disbelief. She never asked him to come today. In fact, she mentioned the date to him in passing a while ago. And yet, here he is. The lone audience member from Panem Electric.

One professor scoffs. "And what would that be?"

"Doesn't matter. Point is that it's important and as of today, it just so happens to be—what did you call this girl's music? Safe?—yeah, my company is safe, unlike your shitty tenures. Now, why don't you boys go home and sip your chamomile tea and give student's papers a subjective B minus and leave this girl alone. Sound good?"

The professors leave, whispering harshly about the rude man they have just encountered.

Katniss stares at him in awe.

"Glad I could get here in time…I had to drive across town after dropping the boys off at the office. Pretty sweet tune you made up, Sweetheart. How's it go again?"

He tries whistling those four notes, but comes up short. Laughing at his efforts, Katniss joins in, both of them whistling those four notes together and letting them echo off of the walls of the nearly empty auditorium.

"How much?"

Katniss looks confused. "What?"

"How much to buy the jingle? Make it our office theme song, if you will?"

Stunned, all Katniss can get out is a meek, "You really want to buy it?"

Haymitch stares for a long while at the composition before he says, "Of course I do. The office needs something like this. We sell coal, and coal will always burn, just like music will always be played."

With tears in his eyes, he turns to his receptionist. It has been a long, hard day for them both.

"I'm really proud of you, Sweetheart."

Wordlessly, the girl throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. Katniss shuts her eyes, squeezing a few pent up tears out and onto Haymitch's shoulder. Taken aback by the warm gesture, Haymitch's arms slowly wrap around Katniss' waist.

"Thank you for coming," she whispers.

"…That's what she said," he whispers right back.

And the moment is ruined.

* * *

When Haymitch returns home, exhausted and worn out, he walks right past his living room.

So when Alma flickers on the light, sitting in a chair that faces the staircase, it causes Haymitch to startle quite loudly.

"Where have you been?"

Haymitch can barely even focus from his exhaustion.

"Huh?"

"I've been waiting up all night. I drove from Allentown, to New London, to New York, back to New London, to Allentown, and I come home to find that my boyfriend isn't even waiting for me?"

The regional manager scrubs his hand over his long face.

"Jeez, Alma, I was out trying to fix this mess that you made."

"I made? _Me_?"

"Well, you and 'the board'. I had to send a rescue mission out to save District Twelve."

Coin's eyebrows rocket upward.

"A rescue mission?"

"Yeah, we went to Snow's house to get him to change his mind…"

Coin looks almost amused by this. "Really? And how did that work out for you?"

"It—it went fine, thanks," he stammers. "I got through to him, I think."

Alma crosses her arms over her gray pajama covered chest. "Snow's in Los Angeles visiting his granddaughter, Haymitch."

"Well, District Twelve is still standing. You didn't manage to blow it into oblivion, so I'd say I was successful."

" _You_ had nothing to do with Seneca Crane fleeing to take a management position at (beep)-ing PPL, Haymitch! You're just an idiot who got lucky!"

Finally, the Haymitch Abernathy that would scoff at sleeping on a bench has returned when he glowers and tells Coin to get out of his house.

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out."

"It's late…where am I supposed to go?"

Haymitch throws his hands up in the air. "You know what, I'll do it for you. I'll go."

Coin starts screaming, cursing his rotten name, and threatening him with everything, from withholding sexual favors to replacing all of his liquor with wine, as he turns to go.

The final straw is reached when Alma storms across the room, grabs a Victor from the display case, and lobs it at the new screen door. Haymitch, shocked and infuriated, storms out just as Coin begins to apologize.

* * *

" _Katniss' song had only four notes in it, but what she managed to do with those four notes was far from simple. Those notes worked together to make music. What people like Snow, or Seneca Crane, or Alma don't get is that a business like Panem is just like a piece of music. It seems trite at first glance, but you can go along way with coal and the people who sell it," Haymitch says._

 _As he speaks, he situates himself in his desk chair and drapes his jacket over himself like a blanket._

" _Oh, no…I'm not gonna sleep here," he says, prideful. His yawning betrays what he says. "Alma didn't spend all of my savings on those renovations…I can get a hotel room just fine, if I wanted to. I'm just gonna…rest my eyes…"_

 _Haymitch ends up falling asleep in the middle of his private interview._

 _The cameras evacuate the room, but before they do, they linger over the newest renovation in the office._

 _Framed and right in the entrance for all to see is Katniss' composition._

* * *

 **A/N: Hi all! I have no excuse for this, really, because I've had it written for a while, but the end of my summer was consumed with finishing another fic and then school got in the way and basically I'm sorry it took me so long to get an update out to you! Admittedly, updates for this fic will be a bit slower and sporadic, as the chapters are long and time is never of the essence, but I plan on updating this fic as best as I can and finishing it! Thank you for all of your continued support, and stay tuned for the next update in which the two branches will merge!**

 **Happy Holidays!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	8. Year Two: New Allies

**Year 2, Episode 3: New Allies**

* * *

Most of the District Four employees work in silence as they pack their things. Many of these employees pack for an uncertain future, with severance packages and memories as their only things to show for their time at Panem.

One person, however, has refused to stop talking. Finnick Odair watches one of his former co-workers leave the office for good with a smug grin on his face.

"Guess we're not holding hands anymore," Finnick observes with a chuckle as another one of the District Four severance package people exits.

Peeta, packing up his desk behind him, looks perturbed by Finnick's cavalier attitude surrounding the transition.

"You find that funny?" he asks.

Finnick points to the exit and says, "Every time that door shuts, it's music to my ears. I don't care about any of them."

"Good to know," Peeta says, staring into the cameras.

Finnick, better at picking up on Peeta's subtle sarcasm in the months since they've begun working together, grins again. With a face as handsome as Finnick's, it is hard to take the cameras off of him, even when he is acting like an ass.

"So, Cheese Buns, tell me about our new boss. Haymitch Abernathy. What does he like? Dislike? Favorite movie? Favorite kind of music?"

Peeta takes a moment to revel for himself before he looks back up at Finnick. "You know, Finnick…you're just gonna have to meet him to get the full Haymitch experience."

Finnick nods.

"Fair is fair, Cheese Buns. Keeping the cards close, I respect that strategy. But hey, you and I are allies, right? We're going to have each other's backs?"

Placing the last of his items into his box, Peeta nods solemnly.

"Absolutely."

Finnick goes off to raid Seneca's office, and Delly comes up from behind Peeta.

"This is going to be interesting. You, me, Bonnie, and Finnick in Allentown."

"Sounds like the very definition of interesting," Peeta says, grinning as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "Okay, Cartwright, I'm heading out. I'll see you today for our first day of 'interesting'."

Her smile just as bright, she comes around her desk and places a kiss on his cheek.

"Let me know when you get there," she says, expressing very friendly concern. Very friendly.

"Will do," he says, a warm smile spreading over his face. They part ways, and Delly smiles to herself before catching the cameras watching her. She tries to wipe the smile off her face, but it is no use.

It's all been documented.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Allentown, Cato follows Haymitch around like a puppy as they place the nametags of the newbies on the spare desks that Boggs has brought upstairs.

"Okay, who do we have here…?" Haymitch says, reaching over to grab the next nametag. He stands by Cinna and Wiress' desk-clump, where a new, empty desk awaits an employee.

"This will be where Delly Cartwright sits."

"Delly Cartwright! Delly… _Delly_ …" Haymitch says, trying out different ways of saying the name.

* * *

 _"_ _It's a numeric divide," Haymitch tells the cameras in a private interview, meaning 'pneumonic device'. "I saw it on_ The House Bunny _. The girl says the names of everyone in this deep voice, and that's how she remembers them. I guess the number of times she says it has something to do with it too. We are welcoming three new friends—and one old traitor…I'm kidding—to District Twelve today. But the way I see it, my family is growing. Like the Grinch's heart."_

 _He holds up his 'Best Mentor' mug. "You know, given the way today is going to go, this should really say 'Best Dad'."_

* * *

"And here we'll sit…"

"Finnick Odair," Cato says, reading methodically from a clipboard.

Haymitch begins to laugh. "Finnick O-where? Finnick oh, DAIR he is!"

This joke makes him crack up. Cato laughs along before he comments, "You should have waited for him to show up to tell that one, that one's good."

Haymitch stops laughing. "I know it's a good one, idiot. I was just practicing. God…"

"Now it won't land as well because most of your audience has already heard it, though."

"Shut up, Cato."

He starts to move on to the next desk, but something causes Cato to stop short.

Wiress, looking as though she has seen a ghost, enters the office. She is shaking and whispering to herself. Katniss eyes her with concern from behind the reception desk.

"Wiress, are you alright?" she asks. Cato slides into the space between Katniss' desk and Wiress, clipboard still at hand.

"Katniss, let the safety marshal handle this. Your pointless question isn't helping," Cato says, very serious about his position. "Wiress, are you alright?"

The older woman's lip trembles as she tries to explain what happened to her.

"I was in the parking lot, and I heard something growling in the bushes. When I went to go check it out, this…stray dog came out of the bush and he jumped on me and he started to gyrate on me. I kicked him off and ran inside, but he chased me…"

She starts to cry at this point, and Katniss calmly leads her to her desk and gets her a glass of water. Cato, who has been taking diligent notes, turns to Haymitch.

"Haymitch! There is a rabid mutt afoot!"

"Damnit, Cato…I don't have time for your weird analogies."

"No, literally. A mutt chased Wiress. There is a mutt afoot!"

"Well, then go make it un-afoot! I have to put on the performance of a lifetime for these new people today, and I don't have time to deal with the old people's problems."

Katniss, who is helping Wiress bring the glass to her trembling lips, eyes the camera with disgust for her boss' lack of consideration.

"Or, we could call animal control," she suggests logically. Cato scoffs.

"Please. I know you've 'hunted' before, Everdeen, but I am a professional. I won't be needing any help from animal control. It's like calling the plumber, or tipping pizza delivery boys..." Cato looks slyly at the camera and offers some sagely advice, "Never pay for a job you can clearly do yourself."

"Oh, so you're going to take a wild stray dog down all on your own?" Katniss says, eyebrows rocketing skyward.

Cato drops the clipboard and springs into action.

"I can outrun most dogs. Just watch me."

* * *

 _"_ _I will eradicate the office of any and all mutts," Cato tells the camera confidently. "I'm very fast. Reference? I'm somewhere between a pitbull and a terrier. Or a goldenpoo. Underrated, but they are very fast."_

* * *

Cato leaves the office in a flourish of homemade armor and plastic utensils just as Bonnie Twill enters. Her large eyes grow wide as saucers when she spots Cato barreling her way.

Haymitch is quick to save face by swooping in and welcoming her to the office with a complimentary gift, which so happens to be a lump of coal and a bunch of pencils in a brown paper lunch bag.

Bonnie, who Finnick had referred to as flighty before, looks desperately like she wishes to turn right back around and get very, very far from District Twelve. She sends the cameras a pleading look as they follow where Haymitch leads her to her new desk and brings her past the point of no return.

Katniss, all smiles, comes in with a bunch of shopping bags several minutes later.

"Great, you got the food! Set it up in the conference room, Sweetheart. Set it up like you're trying to impress a much older man who is way out of your league," Haymitch orders as he follows Katniss to the conference room.

Katniss makes a face of disgust as she inhales Haymitch's putrid breath.

"Ugh, how drunk are you?"

"Very, Sweetheart."

"It's nine o' clock in the morning, Haymitch!"

"Calms the nerves."

Katniss crinkles her nose and hurries to the conference room. "Well at least consider a few TicTacs before the rest of the new people get here," she suggests.

* * *

 _"_ _Yes, I'm really excited for this merger. I'm thrilled to meet all of the new people," Katniss says as she unpacks several expensive-looking platters and wines from the grocery bags._

 _Cressida asks if she is excited to see Peeta again. Katniss pretends as if the thought of him hasn't even crossed her mind._

 _"_ _Yeah! I'm excited to see my old friend again. That's something that makes people happy, having an old friend back," she says, failing to look nonchalant about this._

* * *

Delly arrives after Bonnie (who is receiving a rendition of "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" by the regional manager). Her golden curls flouncing behind her as she strides into the office, Delly takes in her new surroundings and greets everyone who stares impolitely at her with a huge smile.

"Hi, everyone! I'm Delly…"

Katniss is the only one who reaches out to her and introduces herself.

"That's such a cool braid!" Delly says, complementing the elaborate French braid atop Katniss' head. "Did you do that yourself?"

Katniss smiles. "Yeah, thanks…"

The conversation is cut off when a familiar face re-enters the office.

"Beetee!"

Back a week early from his three month paid vacation, Beetee is puzzled by all of the commotion. Katniss explains the merger and introduces him to Delly.

All is going well until Haymitch interrupts.

"Welcome, welcome! Delly, right? I can tell because Cartwright sounded painfully like a basic white girl's last name. We can't all be exotic-looking like Katniss, here. Where's your venti soy mocha, Delly?" Haymitch jabs playfully.

Delly, accustomed to breaking the fourth wall with the cameras now, stares unamused into one.

Spotting Beetee, Haymitch lights up.

"And what have we here?" he says, sauntering up to Beetee. He begins using a voice that sounds half like a robot and half like an alien as he speaks, "I am from the future. Take me to your leader. Oh wait. I am your leader."

Beetee sighs and starts for the door. "Nope. Still not ready to come back to this yet. I'll see you all in a week."

* * *

 _Finnick Odair hops out of his Mustang convertible, whips off his expensive sunglasses, and surveys his new office._

 _"I will let you in on three secrets to successfully establishing yourself in a new environment: a firm handshake, a wink, and a smile. I'll be on top here in no time. Nothing scares me about District Twelve."_

 _His private interview is intercepted by something shooting out of the bushes with a giant net._

 _"Die, mutt!" Cato shrieks as he throws the net over Finnick, who screams in terror._

 _While Finnick writhes around in the net, Cato shakes his head. He plants his hands on his hips and stares at the camera._

 _"Dogs aren't human. Dogs can't talk. There's my error." He leans down impatiently toward Finnick. "Will you evacuate my net, please?"_

* * *

"And you must be Finnick Odair! Welcome! I'm your boss…"

But Finnick is already there with a firm handshake, a wink, and a smile that makes Haymitch look like he is about to go weak in the knees.

"Haymitch Abernathy. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you," Finnick says, so suavely that even Katniss stands up to get a better look at him.

When the cameras pan around the rest of the office, every other girl is on their feet as well, staring blatantly as if they are trying to bore a hole through his strategically tight sweater.

"Damn, son. Do you work out?" Haymitch says, shaking out his hand and laughing pitifully. Finnick shrugs.

Finnick pretends to start delivering a blow to Haymitch's stomach. But it is a fake out. Haymitch crumples inward anyway.

"You could say that." Another wink. Another laugh from everyone around him. The man has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand.

* * *

 _"That Finnick Odair is a peacock. Total preener. But I could easily see him becoming the office darling. Charming, smart, he seems like he could be really skilled in his sales work. I know it's a little early for favorites, but I think I like him the best," Haymitch tells the crew candidly._

* * *

Peeta enters quietly, keeping his head held low as he moseys into the office. It is clear that he feels and looks like an outsider in the place he used to belong to.

While many people eye him—some questioning, others accusing—one person manages to make him feel right back at home.

She fixes her hair, which she has left out of her braid and curled with her fingers, before she runs up to him and goes in for a giant hug.

Her mouth has just begun to form his name when his arms fly around her neck. They embrace, tightly and happily.

Jamming his hands into his pockets when they break apart, Peeta smiles nervously and comments, "Place looks good. I'm glad no one managed to burn it down after I left."

"It's really good to see you," Katniss blurts out, smiling uncontrollably. Peeta smirks.

"It's good to see you too, Everdeen."

The conversation is cut off by the human-sized net capturing Peeta. Cato laughs maniacally and comes around from behind Peeta following the sneak attack.

"Fool me once, I don't forget. But you will fool me never again, Peeta Mellark,"

"Duly noted," Peeta replies, grinning at Katniss through the veil of the net. "Can I ask what the net is for, exactly?"

Cato shrugs. "I'm capturing a mutt that attacked and humped Wiress earlier today. Damn thing is smart and quick, though. I haven't caught sight of it all morning."

"Ah, right. Did you call animal control about it?"

Cato huffs, annoyed. "No need for it. This office has me to rid of the canine predator."

Peeta nods along inside the net, listening very intently to Cato's plan to capture the stray dog and bring it to the pound all on his own.

"Right. Mutt, huh? I'm decent at doodling, Cato. I could talk to Wiress, figure out what it looked like, and sketch something for you to post around the area."

Cato scoffs.

"Nice try. You may be new today, but your tricks are old. I know you're purposefully going to draw that mutt out to look like a dog-version of me. You'll give it blue eyes and a yellow coat…you'll even give it my signature scowl. Then, I'll follow a series of ridiculous steps to perpetrate the mutt, only to end up catching myself. I will end up at the pound and turn myself in, thus your way of making me the office mutt."

Katniss is in stitches at this point, knowing that this is exactly how the situation would pan out.

But Peeta surprises them both when he shakes his head genuinely.

"That's not what I was planning on doing at all, actually," Peeta says, sincerity in his blue eyes. "If a mutt attacked someone here, that's a big deal. We've got to get rid of it, and I'll help you."

Cato looks absolutely stunned that Peeta is being both complacent and helpful toward his mutt-capturing endeavor.

"Thanks, Mellark," Cato grumbles before removing the net from Peeta and returning to his desk.

Peeta smiles once more when he notices Katniss' expectant eyes still lingering on him.

She grins, pushing herself forward on her elbows.

"You're totally going to do exactly what he said, aren't you?" she says, giddiness bubbling in her voice.

Peeta shrugs and shakes his head, as if he has nothing to offer her.

"Nah. I…don't really think I should be doing that kind of stuff anymore. As hysterical as it would be to see Cato throw his net over himself," he tries to alleviate this snub with a joke, but Katniss' smile falters.

She looks away quickly. He makes his way back to his old desk, and the cameras pan to Katniss' hidden look of confusion and hurt.

* * *

 _"Where do I stand with Katniss?" he re-asks the question, as if he thinks that he misheard it._

 _Peeta's smile is melancholy._

 _"We're just friends. That's all there is to it."_

* * *

Peeta is about to drape his suit jacket over his chair when he is intercepted by Gale Hawthorne.

"Oh, do you sit here now?" Peeta asks, slightly taken aback by Gale's possessive actions. The brooding, taller man, nods.

"Yup," he says, plopping himself down in what used to be Peeta's seat.

Peeta awkwardly sits in the adjacent desk, across from Cato and with his back to Katniss.

* * *

 _"He left. I stayed here, and I plan on staying here…causing all kinds of trouble," Gale says, victory flashing in his eyes. "Nice guys finish last. Or first, depending on the context."_

* * *

The cameras watch over Peeta's shoulder as Cato sits, glowering at the open door to Haymitch's office. Inside, the manager is having a good laugh with Finnick about a recent fishing trip the new salesman had gone on in Connecticut.

Cato swoops in like a vulture as soon as Finnick starts toward his desk.

"I don't believe we have met. I'm Cato Hadley, Assistant Regional Manager…"

"…Assistant _to_ the Regional Manager," Haymitch corrects pointedly from inside the office.

Finnick's smug grin deepens with mock politeness as he firmly grasps Cato's hand. Cato wheezes in surprise at Finnick's inhuman strength.

"Finnick Odair, Regional Director in charge of Sales," Finnick says, flashing his charming, pearly whites and winking his dazzling green eye at him.

Cato, beginning to swoon over easily the most attractive man to walk through this office, bites back the smile that begins to form on his lips. He refuses to back down or fall under Finnick's spell, and his usual grimace hardens.

The two men shake hands outside of Haymitch's office for what feels like ages before Cato speaks up.

"I take it you're not one who is used to being told 'no', huh?"

Finnick chuckles. "I've been told I can be quite…persuasive."

"Well, start getting used to it, pal. I'm Haymitch's right hand man around here, and no amount of pretty boy smiles is going to change that."

"Good thing we're allies then, right?" Finnick says, patting Cato's shoulder and walking away. He has broken the handshake first, a sign of weakness in Cato's book, and yet he saunters off as if he has won this standoff.

Cato shakes his head in confusion before stomping back outside with his net.

* * *

 _Finnick laughs knowingly when he is asked the question in his private interview._

 _"Am I intentionally trying to get under his skin? Yes, I am. The angrier that short-tempered meathead out there gets, the more he marginalizes himself, giving me the room to slide right in and spread the Finnick Odair charm."_

 _He smiles again, showing off his talent for accentuating his dimples, and the cameras can hear America going weak in the knees._

* * *

After a very uncomfortable orientation video (which features Haymitch and Cato dressed as Adele and attempting to harmonize to a tune entitled 'Send My Love To Your New London'), Effie insists on handing out itineraries and getting to what Haymitch shouts makes it a 'bore-ientation' before he slams the papers to the ground.

The HR rep sighs and gives up on the effort, despite her hope that a new crop of employees would result in a new respect for organization from the old employees. She just walks dejectedly out of the room.

Haymitch then clears out the chairs and moves into phase two of the orientation. He asks that everyone pair up. He is not specific, however, about trying to intermingle with the new people, and most of the office buddies up with their friends, or with whoever is in closest proximity.

Katniss, who had been sitting next to Peeta and stifling laughter throughout the Adeleparody video, looks over to Peeta. She frowns slightly when she catches Delly Cartwright looping her arm through his.

Cinna pulls her over to him and pats her shoulder comfortingly. Before the receptionist can express her thanks, Cinna puts his finger over his lips and winks.

Cato and Finnick stare each other down—the crazy versus the cocky—before they both lunge for Haymitch. Finnick gets to him first, and Cato cusses loudly.

"You're never gonna catch that stray dog with _that_ reaction time, Hadley," Finnick sneers, elbowing Haymitch playfully. "Right, Boss?"

"Haymitch, tell Finnick that I am always your partner! And tell him that Assistant Regional Manager…"

"…Assistant _to_ the Regional Manager," Finnick says slyly. From behind him, standing a head shorter than her partner, Johanna, Clove Sevina narrows her beady eyes at this over-confident newcomer.

"Whatever, you Adonis. Tell him that my job is more important in this office than his is, Haymitch!" Cato whines.

Haymitch sighs and jams his thumbs into his eye sockets in frustration.

"Cato, it literally does not matter. The titles mean nothing. At the end of the day, my job is most important," Haymitch explains drolly. "Your only differences are your pays."

"Who gets paid more?"

"Probably me," Finnick answers.

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "I don't have time for this nonsense, alright?" he snaps, causing both Finnick and Cato to shut up and listen. "You two can be a pair. I have a merger to run."

Grimacing, the two men act like they are in excruciating pain when they take each other's hands and officially bind together as partners for the day.

Haymitch sighs and continues, "You're going to be spending the day with these people. Get to know the lay of the land from someone who's been around the block. At the end of the day, the partners will return for phase three, orientation.

Caesar, gripping Greasy Sae's hand, looks puzzled.

"But, Haymitch, if I may…there is a disproportionate number of Twelve employees compared to Four."

"We've got one less if you count the in-betweener," Johanna comments, her eyes shooting daggers at Peeta. Delly gives his arm a squeeze, and Katniss tenses when she notices.

"What are the rest of us supposed to do to get adjusted to the changes today?" Caesar asks. "We've never seen anything like this before, and we will certainly never see anything like it again."

Haymitch shrugs, eyeing Caesar as if he has asked the stupidest question in the world. The boss' irritability today, especially given the opportunity to be the center of attention in the merger, goes noticed by all who know Haymitch.

"Figure out how to get your jobs done without overworking yourself in these 'new' surroundings. Or hang out and help wherever you can. I don't care. There's a lot going on."

The manager exits, leaving everyone wondering what to do next.

* * *

 _"I know today is supposed to be about getting people together, but in terms of my personal life, I have been weighing a really tough decision," Haymitch says when asked to explain his unusual attitude today._

 _"I think I want to break up with Alma. But I don't know if I should, or how I should…she scares me," he admits. "I genuinely think there's no way out of this. I'm going to have to marry this woman. She's going to dress our children in gray. Oh, (beep)."_

* * *

"Whole grain store bought bread?" Katniss jeers, fake shock in her voice, as she enters the break room. "What happened to your strictly homemade policy?"

Peeta looks up from his sandwich.

"Oh, yeah. Guilty as charged. Apparently this stuff is supposed to be healthy for you, so I'm trying to stop carbo-loading myself."

She shakes her head, making the 'tsk, tsk' noise Effie is known for making at people without manners around the office.

"The baker's son is a traitor. God, you've changed so much," she comments jokingly. He smiles through a mouthful of whole grain at her joke.

"I'm ashamed in myself, really."

They laugh before settling into an uncomfortable silence that is very unusual for the two of them.

"So, when are you gonna tell me everything? Are you still getting unpacked? Wanna grab coffee or something after work?" she trails off, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing him hopefully.

"Oh, um, tonight I can't. Still getting settled back in."

"Oh, yeah! No worries!" she says, playing off the rejection with a forced smile.

Haymitch walks in and makes an audible noise of discomfort at the sight of Katniss and Peeta in the same room again.

"Whoa! Sorry to interrupt!" he says, throwing his hands in the air, yet not taking his own comment as a cue for him to go. Peeta shakes his head and tosses the remainder of his sandwich into the trashcan.

"You're not interrupting anything," he says. Katniss looks into the camera to avoid looking anywhere else, and Haymitch snickers before walking toward the exit.

Peeta begins to follow him. As if he just now remembers that Katniss is standing there still, Peeta spins back around and claims that he should get back to work.

He goes, and leaves the receptionist alone to speculate over the interaction.

* * *

 _"He's…I don't know. It's like he's a different person. Not himself. It's like all of his memories of me either got wiped out or warped to make me some sort of…bad guy. Like I'm the mutt in the parking lot," Katniss admits in a private interview immediately following the awkward scene in the break room._

 _Her eyes grow wide, as if she looks like she is ashamed for saying anything remotely unkind about Peeta behind his back._

 _"I could be wrong," she supplies quickly. "I could just be imagining it. He's back, and I'm here. And I have my friend back."_

 _She pauses, biting her lip and looking away._

 _"That new girl, Delly, seems really nice. She'll be nice to have around here. Peeta seems to think she's nice…I trust his judgement, so…"_

 _Suddenly, she begins fanning herself off and laughing loudly._

 _"God, it's hot in here!" She eyes the cameras frantically. "Is it hot in here?"_

* * *

"I would like you to do something for me, Pookie."

The whisper, brash and hasty, sounds like it comes out of nowhere from the angle at which the cameras film Clove by the vending machines of the break room. Upon closer inspection, however, Cato has wedged himself in between the vending machines. He is trying to camouflage himself.

Clove glances over her shoulder before pretending to buy something from the machine.

"Not without a please," she says.

Poking his head out from between the machines, Cato delivers a quick peck on her lips. It suffices for the please.

"What would you like me to do, Sugar Bear?"

"Find out any dirt you can on Finnick Odair. The man's trying to kiss Haymitch's ass in order to become top dog around here. I think he wants to be the Number Two."

Clove gasps. "No. That is your position. You've been training for years to be Number Two in the office."

"Which is exactly why I need that Greek God's Achilles Heel. I'll be distracting him by bringing him to hunt the mutt with me, but if you find anything, send me an SMS text message on my cell phone. Do you accept this mission? Nod once if you do, buy a KitKat for me if you don't."

Clove nods.

"Pretty Boy better get ready for a whole lot of ugly," Clove says. The two laugh wickedly before passionately making out in between the vending machines.

This only goes on for about five seconds before Clove smacks him and darts off. Cato emerges from his hiding place, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, and grin wide.

* * *

"I need you, Sweetheart," Haymitch whispers hoarsely, leaning in to make his urgency seem discreet, despite his loud whispering.

Katniss shakes her head vehemently.

"No, I am not coming over to your condo to pour ice water on your head to wake you up again. Last time I did that you tried to stab me with a butter knife in your sleep," she says.

Haymitch sighs. "No, it's not that. Alma has my alarm going off at 4:45 AM sharp. I don't need ice water anymore."

Katniss crinkles her nose.

"That's really early."

"It's what's on the schedule," he replies tersely. Glancing over both of his shoulders to make sure no one is listening, he leans in closer. "That's, uh, actually what I wanted to discuss with you, Sweetheart. Things have gotten a little…weird…with Alma."

"What do you mean, 'weird'? Like…" Katniss swallows, like she in no way wants to be the one bringing the conversation in this direction, but she has to for Haymitch's sake. "…Sexually?"

Haymitch nods. "Among other things. I've been…um…"

"Haymitch," Katniss presses. "What is it?"

"I've been sleeping here for the past two weeks," Haymitch finally admits. "Since your concert, actually."

Katniss' jaw drops. "Oh, my God."

"I need help. Can you, er, gather the women in the office in the conference room? Even the new girls?"

"Like Delly?"

"Especially Delly. Hot blonde has it going on," Haymitch comments, his crude humor still well intact despite his being an obvious mess.

Katniss sighs heavily. Her eyes wander over to Delly's desk, where she is wearing the biggest smile Katniss has ever seen as she attempts to record her voicemail message. Peeta keeps delivering fake criticisms over the sunny blonde's shoulder, causing her to erupt in giggles before she can finish recording the message. Some of her blonde curls fall out of her bun, she is laughing so hard.

The camera catches something flashing across Katniss' face. At its most basic level, there is jealousy, but there is something else, something much deeper present.

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, showing me around? Being a gracious host? Helping me get acclimated with my new environment?" Finnick all but whines as he and Cato circle the building for the fifth time in the hour.

Cato stalks in front of him, swinging his gladiator sword lavishly and slashing through nearby shrubberies at the sound of any slight movements.

"You're becoming one with your environment now. If we slay this beast together, you'll be the most popular girl in school. Just like you want, Odair."

Finnick snorts. "I don't have to stoop to this level of kiss-ass to become the most well-liked person here."

"I'm doing my job," Cato hisses. "In addition to being Assistant Regional Manager, I am the office safety marshal."

"Your job is salesman, just like mine. Don't get carried away now, Cato," Finnick says, calmly, suavely. He slowly moves closer. "You can get what you want in any number of ways. The difference between you and I is that I don't have to aggressively try to make it happen."

Cato looks like he could either kiss him or kill him. There is a soft pinging coming from his pocket. Cato checks his phone and reads his messages, presumably from Clove. A smile slowly spreads over his face.

"You know what, you're right. We're allies in this," Cato says, throwing down his weapon. The noise it makes as it clamors to the ground reverberates off the walls, but Finnick does not flinch. "How about I show you how to file some sales reports, partner?"

Finnick, immediately sensing something is up with Cato's new sticky-sweet demeanor, passes.

"I think I can figure this one out on my own, Ally. You can take first watch for the wild dog. I'll go upstairs."

Finnick tries extending an arm toward Cato, but the man with the giant net flounders at Finnick's touch. Laughing a little to himself, Finnick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little white square.

"Cocaine addict?" Cato muses. Finnick shakes his head.

"Sugar cube. Want one?" he reaches out toward Cato, who comically flinches again.

"Get your stupid drugs out of my face!" Cato shouts.

Finnick laughs again. "Catch ya on the flippity flop, Ally."

Finnick whistles a merry tune to himself as he saunters back into the building, while Cato fumes. His phone pings again, and Cato is suddenly beaming, until he is laughing maniacally.

"Your ass is grass, Poster Boy Odair," Cato mutters. Something then rustles in the bushes, and Cato leaps onto a nearby car with his net, setting off the alarm.

* * *

Peeta playfully leads Delly through how to use the copier machine. They laugh, joke, and look like they're having the most productive day out of everyone in the office, but the cameras aren't focused on them.

They're on Katniss. She makes a very noble attempt at keeping up her stubborn appearance by doing her work, rifling through papers and typing away on her computer, but anyone paying attention can see the hurt and worry in her gray eyes.

Someone whistling catches her attention. The cameras quickly pan to Cinna. Still looking cool and calm as he always does, he motions from across the office for her to join him in the break room.

Katniss, grateful for the distraction, gets up and hurries away from the pair of bubbly blondes standing far too close for her comfort.

When she enters the break room, she immediately lets out the breath she's been holding.

"Let me guess…you brought me here to tell me I'm crazy."

"I don't see the point in that," Cinna says, denying her conjecture entirely. Although this statement begins to confirm her fears about Peeta and Delly, Katniss smiles at the usually aloof man's support in her.

"Why are you being so nice to me, then? Why do you care what goes on with me or anyone else around here?"

"Because," Cinna says, "what you did—giving up on Darius and starting over with your life—was very brave."

"So…what did being brave get me? I can't magically become blonde and pretty overnight," Katniss replies miserably, crossing her arms over her chest. Cinna smiles at her blunt admission and he shakes his head.

"Do what you do best, Girl on Fire. Make an impression," he says simply. "Make him remember why you're friends."

"I'm not very good at making friends," Katniss says, a self-deprecating laugh tumbling from her downturned lips. "Apparently, I can't even keep them."

Cinna's eyes twinkle with something the crew has never seen before. In a day in which everyone seems to be focused on themselves in this merger, Cinna has put Katniss' feelings ahead of his own, and it's fascinating to watch.

"I know it's none of my business, and that I shouldn't go around playing favorites…but if I could bet, I'd bet on you," Cinna says. "I don't know who these new people think they are, but they ought to learn their place. I've sat downwind of Wiress' smelly perfume for years and never said a word, and that Delly girl managed to call it out five minutes in."

Without another word, he picks up his magazine from the counter and resumes his day as he normally would any other.

The cameras pan up to focus on Katniss, who simply blinks in shock.

* * *

 _"People are quick to hate on people who are different than they are. But you know what really brings people together? Forced bonding," Haymitch supplies confidently from his desk chair. "Parts One and Two, the orientation video and the partnering phases of my Merger Mardi Gras, are going very well. Part of Part Three consists of some one on one time with my ladies."_

* * *

"Ladies," Haymitch begins as he addresses the women of his office, all of whom Katniss has packed into the conference room/party space. He takes a moment to acknowledge Delly and Bonnie. "New ladies."

"You're not gonna make us do weird sexual stuff, are you Haymitch?" Johanna asks, bluntly enough that it causes Bonnie to start to make a move for the escape. Delly pulls her back.

Haymitch glowers at his employee. "Shut it, Mason. That doesn't happen here. I'm actually looking for some advice from all of you. You see, I've recently become romantically involved with a woman, a working woman—a working woman who I happen to work under, _that's what she said_ —but as of late, I want to be un-romantically involved with her…"

"Like a break-up?" Delly inquires.

Haymitch points at her and winks. "Bingo. Smarter than you look, Blondie. No wonder why Mellark likes you so much."

Katniss shifts uncomfortably in her seat and lowers her eyes to her lap, which Delly notices.

"So, you want to break up with Alma?" Wiress clarifies. Haymitch looks like he wants to shush her, but he opts for nodding calmly instead.

"Coin? Alma Coin from Corporate?" Bonnie spits out in shock. "You're with her?"

"And now he wants to break up with her," Johanna tacks on. "Keep up, Freshmeat."

"Yeah, I mean…I think I do," Haymitch says. "The sex is good, _really_ good…What do you guys think about role-play?"

"I'm getting back to work," Clove announces dismissively, getting up and leaving in the middle of Haymitch's speech.

The boss pays it no mind. "But it goes too far a lot of the time. Like, for example, Alma has this school girl fantasy…"

"That's common," Madge comments.

"Yeah, but sometimes it feels weird that I'm the one wearing the dress. And she doesn't really listen when I say stop…"

"Oh my God, Haymitch!" Katniss gasps.

"Our safe word is 'pantsuit'," Haymitch continues, "Sometimes she pretends she doesn't hear it…And I'm pretty miserable whenever I'm with her in general. I don't know though. Maybe we're just different. I like enjoying a drink together and cuddling after a long day of work, and she likes video-taping us—and then watching it over to work on better 'strategies'. She doesn't really like feeling threatened, so she's sort of the dominatrix of the relationship. Wish she'd stop showing those tapes to her therapist, though…"

"Haymitch, you _need_ to end that," Katniss interjects, suddenly standing. "You just said it yourself: you're unhappy with her. Anyone can see that the relationship is over at this point."

"Well, maybe not," a chirpy, high-pitched voice counters Katniss' vehement argument to her boss. Delly Cartwright stands and crosses her arms over her slender chest. "Have you tried talking to your girlfriend about any of these things?"

"Well, she doesn't really want to talk about 'em…" Haymitch grumbles, kicking at the floor. He starts getting worked up, and Wiress is quick to put her arms over his shaking shoulders.

Katniss eyes Delly skeptically. "Did you not just hear him? There are way more cons than pros to this relationship." She turns her attention back to Haymitch. "You shouldn't be with someone who doesn't make you happy."

"You're one to talk, Sweetheart," Haymitch snaps, causing Katniss to shrink back a little. "Besides, I'm happy sometimes. Like when we're asleep…"

"Most relationships have rough patches, but communication is key. You just have to push through it, talk it out with her, and have high hopes that things will work out. If someone is willing to compromise, it's worth it, but you never know unless you try," Delly reasons.

Noticing that many sets of old eyes are on her, Delly leans back on the balls of her feet.

"I've been trying some of these methods out recently, and they've really been working for me, is all," she states.

The cameras are immediately capturing Katniss' momentary horrified reaction. Delly's statement, it seems, has clinched all of Katniss' fears from today.

Katniss finally snaps out of it and shakes her head, "I'm sure that works for most relationships, or for whatever relationship you're in, but you really don't know _this_ relationship. Haymitch, it just sounds like you two are wrong for each other."

Haymitch rubs his weary eyes. "Ugh, I don't know who's right!"

"Okay, let's try something my mom taught me. Don't think, just answer," Wiress chimes in. "What do you wanna do with Alma?"

"I wanna break up with her," Haymitch answers almost immediately.

As if on cue, the tune to 'We Can't Stop' begins to play throughout the conference room, and the cameras follow Haymitch's hands as he reaches into his pocket, reads the name on the screen, and sighs.

"Oh, no. It's her. It's her fifth call this hour…what do I do?"

At the same time Katniss tells him not to answer it, Delly tells him to answer it. The two women stare uncomfortably at each other.

He hits ignore. A victory for Katniss.

* * *

Haymitch moves on to Phase Three of the Merger Mardi Gras by corralling everyone into the conference room for a few rounds of ice-breaker games.

The games quickly become corrupted by Haymitch's 'mentoring' when all of the New London members are propped up on chairs atop a table and asked to play what Haymitch calls 'Skeletons in the Closet'.

"Here in District Twelve, we're a family. We know pretty much everything there is to know about each other. The game is fairly simple. Each New London employee will have two minutes in the Hot Seat, where anyone from Allentown can ask them anything."

Bonnie Twill's eyes grow to be wide as saucers. "Anything?"

"Anything, Pipsqueak," Haymitch affirms gruffly. "Let's start with Mellark."

Peeta tears his horrified gaze away from his boss to stare into the cameras in utter disbelief.

* * *

 _"When I first got here, it was as simple as Haymitch showing his stupid orientation video and a pretty lame party in the conference room._ This _is…nothing good can come of this," Peeta says worriedly in a private interview._

* * *

"Since we know enough about him, we'll cut Peeta's time down to one minute. Sorta like a practice round, if you will."

"Haymitch, I don't think this is a great…" Katniss begins, but Haymitch cuts her off.

Haymitch bellows over his shoulder, "Start the timer!"

Not surprisingly, both Finnick and Cato comply to this demand.

"He was talking to _me_ , Idiot," Cato growls. "You're the one in the hot seat! Besides, I'm Haymitch's Number Two."

"I'm Number Two, actually," Peeta says from the Hot Seat. Dodging Cato's bugging eyes, he adds, "Coin felt that since I'm the only one with experience with both groups, that it would be best if…"

Cato is momentarily enraged with his old enemy before returning to his new one.

"Whatever. I'm Number Three, then."

Finnick scoffs, "That's impossible. With my qualifications stacked against yours, I'm easily Number Three."

"I'm Number Three!" Cato all but whines.

"That mutt you've been trying to catch is probably more qualified than you," Finnick says, just taunting the other man at this point.

Cato stamps his foot in petulance. "Haymitch! Tell Pretty Boy I'm your Number Three!"

"Shut up. The number system is arbitrary after Two," Haymitch grumbles.

Clove huffs, "Can we get back to the secrets game, please?"

Not surprisingly, Finnick and Cato both return to their timers. Another set of death glares are exchanged.

Finnick shrugs, sitting back in his seat and smirking.

"I wouldn't look so smug if I were you, Odair," Cato sneers, "Lot of secrets about to be flying around this conference room."

"I'm not too worried about this, Hadley," Finnick says, winking. Madge swoons. "I'm sure if you had any secrets worth my time that I would know all about them by now."

Cato glowers. His phone suddenly pings to life. The cameras look over his shoulder to read the text message Clove has sent him:

 _Info I got for you this afternoon confirmed. Take him down, Sugar Bear._

Cato grins evilly and steals a glance at his loving accomplice, who grins right back.

The rapid-fire questions have already begun with the old employees largely asking Peeta about why he left Allentown six months ago. Peeta deflects each of them with ease, using the promotion and the transfer as his main reasons.

"Are those really the only reasons?" Clove presses. Many people know what kind of a rise they want to get out of the smooth-talking blonde in the Hot Seat. Peeta's eyes barely skitter over the absolutely silent receptionist in the corner of the huddle before he nods resolutely.

"Really. That's it."

"Who's the last person you banged?" Cato blurts out. Gale rolls his eyes, Clove snickers, and Wiress tells Cato that Peeta's sex life is none of his business. "It's locker room talk, everyone. Besides, I wanna know if Mellark got actual game when he went to Connecticut."

Peeta immediately turns bright red. This time, the look that goes to Katniss is unmistakable. Delly, who sits at the end of the line of chairs, clears her throat a little, looking just as embarrassed.

"I really don't feel comfortable answering that," Peeta says after the fight between some of the Twelve employees about what constitutes as proper question asking etiquette dies down.

Haymitch wags his finger in disapproval. "Not how the game works, my friend. There's plenty of time left on the clock."

"You still have twenty seconds," Finnick, the other time-keeper, interjects before Cato can.

Peeta, eyes wide, shakes his head. "Haymitch, please. It's not something I want to talk about. Especially not here."

Delly's initial girlish embarrassment becomes full-fledged shame when she notes that Peeta's pleas seem to be for the sake of protecting someone else's feelings entirely. At the sight of how worked up Katniss looks, the cameras pan in to absorb Delly's comprehension of the situation.

"Five seconds," Cato and Finnick chorus.

Peeta asks again, "Please."

Haymitch finally backs down as the two timers go off. "Fine. But you should write it down sometime, because I'm kind of curious. You have a new lady and you aren't telling us, Mellark? No one make an example out of this kid. He's a tough nut to crack."

Next in line for the Hot Seat is Finnick.

The first few questions feel expected. Madge asks for his number, much to Gale's chagrin. Johanna asks for his measurements (for lack of a less vulgar term). Caesar asks where he got his clothes. Sae wants to know how many different kinds of knots he can tie.

Finnick answers each question with unflinching ease and charismatic charm. He has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand within thirty seconds. All except two people.

Cato steps forward and slams a photo of a chiseled man, bronzed and oiled and covered with only a fish net, down on the table before Finnick's feet.

"Does this look familiar, Finnick _Oh-Darling_?" Cato sneers. "What a stage name!"

Finnick gulps a little, but he upholds his composure when he asks, "Where did you get that?"

Cato bares his teeth in a sickening smile. "Do you not remember this? Allow me to elaborate for our co-workers who may not know what I am talking about, then. Mister Odair is the winner of the 65th Annual Male U.S.A. beauty pageant, Mister America! HA! FINNICK IS A PAGEANT QUEEN!"

The room is absolutely silent. Even when the timer goes off, no one says a word. Finnick looks shell-shocked. Peeta's got his head in his hands. Delly's still glowering. Haymitch is reeling.

Finally, Finnick nods and heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Yes, I am a pageant boy. My family made me do it at a really young age. It was good money, and it was good for my family's reputation. But, my last pageant was ten years ago…ten years ago was when I started working for Panem. Sure, I'm a celebrity in the places that _care_ about male beauty pageants, but I want nothing more than to just be treated as your co-worker."

Again, the room is silent.

"That is so hot," Johanna breathes out.

Haymitch starts a slow clap. "That's bravery! Wow, take a good look at a real man, right here, ladies!"

"Don't have to tell me twice," Madge says, licking her lips.

"You should see my crown," Finnick jokes, winking at Haymitch. The two share a laugh, one that Finnick makes sure is loudly directed at Cato.

Cato growls in frustration, grabs his net, and storms to the door.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be doing an actual hero's work and eradicating this office of the local mutt!"

"Cato, it's freezing out there," Clove argues. But Cato doesn't listen. He simply storms past her.

With that, Bonnie Twill stands up.

"What are you doing? You're next," Haymitch asks the skittish girl. "Time for you to put all of your baggage out into the District Twelve universe!"

"This is too much for me. I can't work here, and I have to quit. I was on the fence about this whole merger anyway…and I got an offer from a new company that's building itself from the ground up, so…"

"What happened, Bonnie? Was it Effie? Did she make you feel weird, you know, with all the make-up? She has that effect on people…"

Effie purses her lips, as if about to object, but she opts to look at the camera in frustration instead.

Bonnie shakes her head. "No, no. Effie was very kind and helpful. It's…it's your management skills, honestly."

Haymitch looks taken aback.

"My—my management?" he stammers. "Did you find the video funny?"

Bonnie blinks. "No. Was it supposed to be funny? I thought it was actually a little creepy."

Offended, Haymitch fires her without letting her actually quit on the first day.

Gathering what little she had brought into the office, Bonnie quickly barrels for the front door, but not without being heckled by the manager.

"There's no room for quitters on this team, Bonnie Twill!" Haymitch shouts. "And you weren't even that good at telling me how to break up with my crazy girlfriend! Still don't know what I'm gonna do about that, by the way…any guys know how to take a break permanently with someone? How do you tell someone, 'It's not me, it's you'?"

Once again, everyone in the room is silent. Katniss gasps a little as her eyes fly above Haymitch's head. Delly looks up from her lap momentarily to stare as well. He is interrupted by the sounds of a familiar cold voice clearing her throat behind him.

"Pantsuit!" Haymitch squeaks the safe word as he turns to face the woman in gray who has heard the whole admittance of Haymitch's impending breakup.

The ice-woman eyes him with contempt. "I was going to come down here and apologize for my behavior lately. Ask if you wanted to grab some food and talk about everything…but I see that your mind is made up, and that you've decided who the enemy here is."

"Do you wanna get Chinese food…?"

"Save it, Haymitch," she cuts him off sharply. "Oh, and by the way, you can't just _fire_ someone who wants to quit. Now we have to give Bonnie a severance package."

Her gray eyes are fueled with hatred. She is the third person in ten minutes to storm out of the office in anger.

* * *

 _"Well, merger comes from the word 'marriage'. And Webster's Dictionary defines wedding as the fusing of two metals with a hot torch. Two very different parts of one big whole that's supposed to work. Sometimes, it works," Haymitch, looking way less on edge than he has in his past interviews now that he has officially severed ties with Alma, albeit poorly. "Sometimes, it's just…it's not gonna work. Ever."_

 _He pours himself a drink. Whether it is celebratory or consolatory, it is unclear._

 _"Today was supposed to be a loving union between people…" he sighs a little. "I think we got halfway there. I made a wish at 11:11 today, for everyone on Merger Mardi Gras day. I wished for Alma to get over me. I wished for Wiress a new toaster. I wished for Katniss to gain courage. For Clove, a heart. For Madge, a brain. But, what did I wish for, for everyone? Like they say in the beauty pageant circuit, according to_ Miss Congeniality: _world peace."_

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day, Finnick Odair has managed to play to the likes and dislikes of his co-workers, in addition to Haymitch, in order to get on each of their good sides. Granted, he didn't have to do very much to worm into the hearts of every woman listening with bated breath to each word he had to say. Even with the secret of the male beauty pageants coming out of the bag, Finnick remains a fan favorite around the office, and the strategy he implores to do so is one that the cameras keep tabs on.

He proudly displays his new gecko screensaver to Clove, who offers him a smile of approval. He strikes up conversation with Caesar about his favorite contestants on all of Caesar's favorite reality shows. He even manages to get into Gale's good graces by describing a recent hunting trip he went on.

Finnick's greatest challenge, however, still marches the perimeter of the parking lot outside.

"Any luck, Champ?" Finnick, mug of hot cocoa and a stack of fliers with the sketch Peeta has drawn of the dog in his hands, approaches a very on-guard Cato.

"Mark my words, Odair. I'll find this predator. Because justice never rests," Cato replies, confidently whipping off his sunglasses. He eyes Finnick's steaming mug hungrily.

"Hot cocoa?" Finnick offers, pushing the mug toward the muscular safety marshal. "No sugar cubes in there, I promise."

Cato looks like he so badly wants to give in to the seeming peace offering, but his pride overtakes him.

"No, thank you."

Finnick sighs a little. "You know, Katniss called animal control an hour ago."

Cato hisses, "Damnit! I really thought I had this one!"

For a moment, and just a moment at that, Finnick stops thinking about himself to imagine being in the worn, surprisingly small shoes of Cato Hadley. He sees a slight similarity. Both men have been fighting for a chance they deserve, but haven't gotten yet.

"Listen, Cato," Finnick begins, coming toward the burlier man, "I really appreciate you letting me shadow you today. I learned a lot about what this office is like, thanks to you."

Cato grins a little.

"You'll make an adequate Number Four, Odair."

And just like that, the alliance is broken. Simmering at the mentioning of his lowered status, Finnick gestures toward the fliers in his hands.

"I think I may put some of these up around my neighborhood. Lots of school kids and dogs where I am."

Cato shivers a little as a breeze blows past them. Without a coat, Cato is defenseless to the cold.

"Seriously, man. Take the hot chocolate. It's kind of pathetic."

Slowly, hesitantly, Cato takes the mug of hot cocoa from Finnick's hands. He performs a series of smelling and tasting tests to prove that he will not be poisoned before he downs the drink in just several gulps.

"Thanks, Odair. Maybe you're not such a pompous ass afterall."

Cato shoves him a little as he walks past Finnick to get inside. Finnick watches after him, the corners of his lips cocking into a slight smile.

* * *

 _"Not my worst day. I've walked around in a sequined speedo, so you know it's_ definitely _not my worst day," Finnick tells the cameras as he stands by his convertible._

 _Laughing a little to himself, he holds up one of the fliers. Peeta has sketched a dog that bears striking resemblance to Cato Hadley, particularly the beady eyes._

 _"This might just make it a little better, though."_

* * *

"Peeta," Delly's voice can be heard catching on Peeta's microphone through his cell. Peeta laughs a little as he makes his way through the parking lot at the end of the day. He is unaware that he is still being filmed.

"Hey, Curly Q. Where you at?"

"I'm at the store deciding which hard liquor will best drown out all memories of today. _Venom Ice_ sounds pretty promising."

Peeta chuckles again. "Not a great first day? Really? What happened to high-hopes, Cartwright?"

"Shut up," Delly's voice is playful, filled with her usual cheer. Suddenly, when she changes the topic, it is very serious-sounding. "Peeta, can I ask you something?"

Peeta pauses, his shoes digging into the gravel. "Yeah?"

"That girl…the secretary…"

"Katniss," Peeta cuts in.

"Yeah, her." Delly pauses, and on the other line, the sounds of breath hitching can be heard. "You didn't want to admit that we're together because of her, right?"

There is a long, static-filled pause on both ends before Peeta whispers, "Yeah."

"And the reason why you left Twelve…it was her?"

"Yeah."

"Peeta, you have to tell her," Delly sighs. "We can talk about this some more tonight, but you have to at least let her know that you're seeing someone…"

At that moment, Katniss comes out of the building and unlocks her car door.

"Hey, Dell, can I call you back?" Peeta says quickly.

"Uh, sure," she sounds a bit taken aback, but it's clear that she is trying hard to keep up her chipper demeanor, even when off camera. "See you soon."

Peeta hangs up and rushes to meet Katniss before she can get into her car.

"Hey, Everdeen."

Katniss looks a little shocked, like Peeta speaking to her is something she did not expect.

"Hey."

"I thought you…already left…"

Katniss shakes her head. "Nope. Had to clean up some Mardi Gras beads and help Haymitch get that cot out of his office. Did you know that he has been sleeping _here_ for the past two weeks?"

"Oh, jeez…" Peeta remarks, laughing uncomfortably at what used to be such an easy, teasing exchange between him and Katniss. She catches on immediately, and her steely gray eyes harden.

Katniss' brow furrows a little as she takes in how awkward he is behaving.

"Everything alright?" she asks, sounding a bit hopeful.

"Oh, nothing. I just feel bad, like things were weird between us, or something, today…"

"What do you mean?"

Peeta jams his hands into his pockets and looks straight down as he answers, "I just think I should tell you that I've, uh…started seeing someone, and uh…"

"Delly," Katniss finishes for him, "I know."

"You knew?" Now it is Peeta's turn to look confused. "How?"

Katniss shrugs. "Didn't take a genius to figure out. It's totally cool, Peeta. You can do whatever you want."

Looking slightly annoyed by her phrase of seeming approval that he didn't ask for, Peeta responds, "Oh, okay. Uhm, good."

"We're friends," Katniss supplies quickly, moving away from him and closer to her car. "We'll always be friends."

"Right."

"It's good to have you back, Mellark," Katniss calls to him as he walks toward his car at the opposite end of the lot. He offers her a small smile. The camera catches the same look in his eye as Katniss' earlier.

"Good to be back, Everdeen," he mutters.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi all! So this has been sitting on my computer for far too long now, and I'm really sorry I couldn't get it out there sooner. Hopefully this makes up for it!**

 **What I've been experiencing trouble with is the fact that these chapters, while so much fun to write, are very time-consuming and intricate. I need to scale down a bit, and that's going to require this fic taking a bit of a back seat for the time being while I work on some other WIP's that are easier to write with my schedule. I don't plan on abandoning this story by any means, I just need to figure out a logistic way I can give the characters the full arc I intended to give them all while going a little easier on the length of chapters/seasons/the overall product. I will do my absolute best to get the next chapter out sooner.**

 **Thank you all for bearing with me and this story. It gives me an opportunity to laugh and I hope it does the same for you. I will be working on some shorter ventures in the meantime. I have recently posted a fic titled _As the Clock Ticks On,_ a seventies-based Gale/Peeta buddy cop AU that's been taking up a lot of my time, as well as some other upcoming shorter projects, so if you want to check those out, please do! **

**-ILoVeWicked**


	9. Year Two: Mayor Undersee

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both The Hunger Games and The Office (US) belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 2, Episode 4: Mayor Undersee**

2017 welcomes the District Twelve branch of Panem Electric with unusual warmth in Allentown. Despite being January, Cato can be seen wearing his preferred mustard short-sleeve shirts with no jacket in the mornings, Katniss is toting iced coffee, and the window by the accountants' desks is left open for the strange bout of sunlight to stream through the office.

Haymitch refers to it as God's gift for their successful merger. Beetee calls it global warming.

Since coming forth with their relationship, which began sometime toward the end of their tenure in District Four, Peeta and Delly have taken advantage of the warm weather with weekend trips to the Jersey Shore, breaks spent outside, and going out of the office for lunch.

One afternoon, Katniss wistfully looks up from the work she has been doing through lunch hour when the sounds of Delly's loud, staccato laughter punches the air as it makes its way through the entrance. She and Peeta, usually inconspicuous about their public displays of affection, appear arm in arm as they return. Katniss quickly looks back down and attempts to make it look like she is buried in her work just as they approach.

"How was lunch, you two?" Effie asks, lips pursed in a new shade of bright purple this week. It was her New Year's Resolution to express herself more freely, and she has been sticking to it for weeks now. "You went to that new seafood place, _Pods_ , correct?"

Delly nods emphatically.

"And the funniest thing happened while we were there. Peeta ordered the oysters…and…" she cannot get through the rest of the story before laughter takes her hostage. "Peeta tells it better anyway."

The salesman jams his hand into his pants pocket. He pulls something small, round, and shiny out and presents it as part of the story.

"I nearly swallowed this," he says, holding the pearl up higher for Delly, Effie (and although she thinks she cannot be seen, Katniss) to admire. "I coughed it up and couldn't believe it. They offered me a free meal, but I mean, they're the ones who accidentally gave away a precious jewel, so we paid and ran right out of there before anyone could give us any more pitying looks."

Finnick, who is lingering by the copier, cranes his neck to look at Peeta's find.

"Eh, I've seen and worn better," he says dismissively, presumably referring to his pageant days, or just as easily his extreme wealth.

Effie, eyes glittering under her shimmery purple eye-shadow, gapes at the pearl.

"Just magnificent, what luck! And how ironic that it would be swallowed by a coal salesman! You know, if you put enough pressure on coal, it turns to pearls!"

She is beaming so brilliantly at the couple that neither of them has a choice but to respond enthusiastically to her pronounced cleverness, even though it's scientifically wrong.

"Coal turns to _diamonds_ under enough pressure, not pearls, Princess. Nice dress, by the way. Just kidding, you look like some hooker Barney hired for a night of fun without all the kids," Haymitch cuts into the conversation and shuts Effie down as if it is his job to squash her spirit whenever she is in proximity of his office, instead of managing a branch of a company. Effie frowns.

"And you two," he waves his finger between Peeta and Delly, "You better get back to work, lovebirds. I ain't paying you to tell stories and bang in my break room."

"We don't—" Peeta starts.

"I don't wanna hear the dirty details of your relationship, Blonde and Blonder, unless it's off my clock. Get back to work."

He leaves with the papers Katniss hands over to him, and Effie, who's gone as purple as her shade of lipstick with embarrassment, retreats to the annex. Delly looks to Peeta, lets out one of her well-known giggles, and returns to her desk clump with Wiress and Cinna.

"Good story," Katniss says suddenly, before Peeta can leave too. "What are you going to do with that gem of the sea, and I'm not referring to Finnick Odair's pageant titles at all when I say that."

Peeta rolls the pearl between his pointer finger and his thumb, studying it for a moment, before he lets out a breathy laugh.

"I have no practical use for it, honestly, and Delly doesn't want it now that it's been down my esophagus," he confesses. After a moment of consideration and quick glance over to where Delly now animatedly tells the story to her clump-mates, he pipes up, "You want it, Everdeen?"

Her gray eyes widen in shock as she reels back in her chair and nervously glances in Delly's direction. She shakes her head vigorously.

"Oh, Peeta, thank you, but no. I couldn't."

The cameras have seen banter like this between them before. Peeta usually rails into Katniss for having too much pride and for not knowing how to accept a gift, and Katniss usually tells him that he doesn't need to be so charitable all the time; it makes everyone else look bad.

But Peeta surprisingly relents without any further question. Shoving the pearl back into his pocket, he shrugs, offers her a faint smile, and returns back to his seat. Katniss watches him go and sighs, but knowing that she is on film, pretends to busy herself with work again.

Somewhere off camera, Delly laughs when she reaches the punchline of the story, which is now Effie's blunder over diamonds versus pearls. The sound of someone else growling over it can be heard coming from the copier. The cameras pan up from Katniss to watch Johanna Mason stewing in annoyance.

"That laugh…it's like someone stabbing a mouse with a fork repeatedly," Johanna mutters, smirking when Katniss looks up and gives her a smile of agreement. "Squeaky Clean Cartwright lives up to her damn name, I'll give her that."

* * *

Effie is in the middle of explaining the importance of break room etiquette and how to properly put coffee grounds into the machine without making a mess when Haymitch comes bursting through the door, exasperated and wide-eyed. The swinging door hits the table with the coffee maker on it, successfully spilling its contents and making a mess.

"Haymitch, I am _trying to_ …"

"Shut it, you walking Crayola Twenty-Four Pack. We have to hide, people. There's a shady, sleek limo that just pulled into the front lot and I'm pretty sure a member of the mob is coming to kill us. Which one of you District Four people has a criminal record and didn't tell me?"

Delly and Finnick exchange innocent looks with each other and the people surrounding them. Meanwhile, the camera catches Sae guiltily shrinking down in her seat.

"People! Unless you want your knee caps busted and your throats sliced open I suggest you evacuate the premises immediately," Haymitch, crouching down so that he may not be seen through the window, hisses at his unmoving employees.

Cato shakes his head. "Not the right call. Evacuation is not safe at this point. You gotta draw them out, and then go in for the surprise kill. That's how it happens in every mobster movie. Plus, as Safety Marshal…"

"Cato, if you say one more word about being some fake position I let you appoint for yourself I will send you out there as a human sacrifice," Haymitch threatens, and Cato clamps his jaw shut.

A gigantic hush falls over the room. The sound of a car door closing sends some of the less rational people in the office into a panic. Wiress ducks under her chair in a fetal position. Cato pulls a nunchuck seemingly out of thin air and assumes a battle position. Caesar looks into the camera and pretends to be biting his nails in fear. Effie fusses with her wig and claims that Haymitch is being dramatic, but turns out the lights to the conference room anyway.

Thrill-seeking Johanna rushes over to the window.

"Johanna, get away! Are you crazy!? They have guns!" Haymitch exclaims in a heated whisper. Then, curiosity gets the best of him and he asks, "What do you see?"

"A bunch of guys in black suits wearing sunglasses. They have those ear-piece things, too," Johanna announces. "Some of them are handsome."

"Oh God, mobster henchmen! We're doomed!" Caesar cries. He attempts to flee the room but is held back by Cinna, who merely shakes his head.

When Madge skips up to the window out of nowhere, even Gale looks a little concerned.

"Madge, what are you doing?"

Giggling, Madge tosses her perfectly-primped hair over her shoulder and rolls her eyes.

"Calm down, sillies! It's just my Dad! He didn't tell me he was coming to visit!" she gushes, until her eyes grow wide with a new kind of fear. "He's never seen this dumpy office before...oh, no."

"What's wrong, Undersee?" Haymitch inquires.

Madge bites her bottom lip nervously. "I may have told my father a teensy white lie about where I work..."

"How teensy?" the manager presses.

"Um...I told him Panem was a dying company in need of my philanthropy."

"You barely chip in for lunch, Madge," Johanna deadpans beside the pacing blonde customer service representative.

"Yeah, but everyone has nicer pens now because of me, so technically, I wasn't _lying..._ Also, I told him that because of the great work I've done, Panem is thriving, and that it is very grateful for his administration and you all voted for him. So just act like your usual selves and we'll be okay...actually, act like your happier, less weird selves."

Madge nervously surveys everyone in the room until her eyes land on Gale, who's still wedged in a corner with Beetee and Finnick.

"He'll be up here in a minute! Please try to look presentable for him," she says pointedly to her boyfriend before scampering off to greet her father.

Gale does a once over of his appearance—khaki slacks, a dark blue button down, and a pin-straight matching tie—and comes up short. He settles for licking his fingers and running his hands through his hair before following in the direction of Madge.

A palpable wave of insecurity washes over the group as they get up and examine their clothing. Everyone abandons Effie's seminar on coffee and returns to their stations, an order from Haymitch to appear presentable for the Mayor-Elect.

"But, the coffee! People need to stop showing signs of quiet revolt around here!"

"You know what needs a revolution, Princess? Your hair," Haymitch snaps.

* * *

" _After a tireless two years of campaigning and a whirlwind of an election season, my father, Dale Undersee, is officially the Mayor of Allentown!" Madge proudly declares in an interview. "It was the biggest race of 2016, and I'm sure that although he did nothing to secure the vote of the working class, everyone in this staunch liberal office voted for my conservatively Republican father – at least that's what I told him, so he wouldn't freeze my credit card again."_

* * *

" _Um…yeah, I voted. And definitely for Madge's dad," Haymitch outright lies when asked for a further comment. "…What was he running for, again?"_

* * *

" _Of course I did," Gale says almost too quickly and defensively. It's clear that politics are a subject he can be both passionate and opinionated about, and he nearly spits in the camera lens while ranting, "It's a civic right we have as Americans to vote. And while Mayor Undersee does represent the one percent club that now dominates the White House…I have a girlfriend and potential high paying job opportunities to think about, so…yeah, I voted for him. Not because I actually wanted to, but because I had to."_

 _Bitterly, he adds, "Isn't democracy something?"_

* * *

Dale Undersee, a stereotypical salt-and-pepper haired politician, strides into the office with an air of confidence that could knock anyone, even Cinna, down to their knees in submission. Cato starts a chain of standing at attention for the man. Peeta awkwardly looks into the camera before being the last to rise slowly.

"I just wanted to stop by Madgey's office to thank you all for your support in the election, and for your tireless work for providing this city with power," Dale, who's voice is surprisingly much meeker than his appearance, says. "It is the everyday efforts of people like you, the hardworking middle class, who keep this town running."

Haymitch claps, and one look from him that threatens their middle class pay checks prompts everyone else to join in with gusto.

"As a token of my gratitude, I would like to personally invite you all on behalf of the Undersee family to our celebration, the Mayor's Ball, this evening at my home."

Madge's blue eyes grow to be twice their size as she swivels around to her father, shocked.

"Daddy, are you sure you want to do that?"

The Mayor blinks at his daughter in confusion. "Why wouldn't I? I'm just showing these men and women the same gratitude they showed my campaign for all of your hard work, Pumpkin."

Johanna guffaws, and gets discreetly elbowed in the side for it by Haymitch.

Still trying to come up with a way around everyone attending the party, Madge continues, "I mean, this isn't really the party crowd..."

"Undersee's just being modest, Sir, of course we love parties. We throw parties all the time here at Panem!" Haymitch interjects, receiving a glare from Madge as he does so.

"Well, if that's the case, then please join us. The event is black tie, so I wanted to give you all a chance to go out and find something to wear just in case you need to go shopping," he goes on, glancing briefly at Gale, who reacts with further confusion to the cameras. "Oh, and before I forget, I brought you all gifts!"

As his security guards work to pass out gift baskets—which contain all 'Undersee 2016' insignia's on various clothing items and memorabilia—Haymitch steps forward with an inquiry.

"Mister Mayor, what's your policy on dates?"

"They're in season," Cato reflexively answers about the fruit. He is shot down with a look from one of the guards at the Mayor's side.

Mayor Undersee laughs. "If you would like to bring someone, then I say the more the merrier! Just let Madgey know before the end of the day so we can give the caterers a head count."

Haymitch grins, but Cato, seemingly unable to control himself in the presence of higher powers, blurts out, "But you just broke up with Alma, Haymitch."

"Shut up, Dummy," Haymitch hisses.

"It was truly a nasty end to a toxic relationship," Caesar, wanting in on the gossip, chimes in.

"I will…I swear to God…"

"Ah, I will let you all sort this out, then," Mayor Undersee says, smiling like an automaton and showing no sense of discomfort at the display before him. "Have a great day, and an even greater tomorrow!"

The Mayor leaves as if he has just given a speech to a crowd, even signing off to the cameras with a nod, before exiting with his men in a tight formation. Katniss holds up a shirt that reads his election slogan, 'Have a great day, and an even greater tomorrow!' as if to further clue in to the man's strange persona.

* * *

" _This is a great opportunity for me to get in with the big wigs of this city," Haymitch decrees as he pours himself another celebratory drink. "Being at this ball tonight is everything you could want, the toast of the town. Fine food, free alcohol, and lots of pomp and frill. It's an opportunity to get the right people to like me, and if I go in with the perfect woman on my arm…it could mean everything. Only issue is I gotta find that woman, first."_

* * *

Haymitch wastes very little time before embarking on his relentless search for a date to the party.

"Say, Sweetheart, you wouldn't happen to have any single friends who'd want to attend a very prestigious party with a regional manager, do you? Anyone from music class, or some of your sister's college buddies, or something?"

Katniss nose crinkles with disgust.

"Ew, no. I'm not subjecting anyone I know to your whiskey-breath all night. What about that lady who works at Rooba's Steakhouse? She seemed really into you, last time we all went there for the company St. Patrick's Day dinner. My mom works shifts at the hospital with her daughter. I could ask her to get a number for you."

Now, it's Haymitch's turn to look disgusted. "The homely one? She's really old and smelled like a grandma and she was not hot at all? No, Sweetheart. It's like you don't even know me, and I'm the closest thing you have to a friend here."

Katniss wearily looks into the cameras following that statement.

"So, no to the Rooba's lady then?"

"Hard no. Ugh, just thinking about it makes me want a drink."

Katniss' eyes are ablaze when she looks up from her phone. The camera catches her delete the text she was about to draft to her mother.

"Forget that the whole favor, then, since no one I suggest is going to be good enough for you and your ridiculous conception of love," she fires at him.

Haymitch wavers a little at the blow to his ego and series of failed relationships. "Well, don't phrase it like that. It makes me seem mean."

"You _are_ mean," Katniss fires back, referring to any number of instances she could cite to back the accusation up. Haymitch looks deeply offended, and she shrugs when he huffs. "If you wanted to be babied, you should have asked someone else to help you. Like Peeta."

"Asked me what?" the blonde salesman asks, sauntering up to the reception desk with files at the least opportune moment.

"Asked you to respect your elders, but you're not the problem in that department, Golden Boy. You are a strangely unlikeable person, Sweetheart," Haymitch tells Katniss with a pointed look. When she rolls her eyes and shoves a bag filled with small white liquor bottles his way, he perks up a bit. It turns out she _does_ know him, after all.

"But you have your virtues."

Peeta smiles politely at the exchange.

"Katniss, can you please get these faxed to District Six before three?" he asks the receptionist, any trace of their past flirtations at the desk having vanished. The receptionist complies, her gray eyes burning with unreadable emotion.

"Of course."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Peeta."

Haymitch watches the whole thing transpire with genuine curiosity. It seems as though he was the last person to catch up on the fact that this is how these two interact now that Peeta is back from New London and with Delly.

"Brr…" he comments, his attempt at breaking whatever ice has frozen over between the them. "You two have a lot of warming up to do before showtime."

Katniss dismissively rises, clearly wanting out of this painfully awkward conversation she's found herself in with the man she likes and her boss.

"Which is tonight, so you better start thinking of ways to find your own date, Haymitch."

The boss grumbles as he starts off toward his office.

"Looks like I don't have a choice, Sweetheart."

When she looks to Peeta for support, he's already gone back to his desk, his back facing her. Katniss groans and buries her head in her hands.

* * *

" _How are things going in my personal life?" Peeta repeats the question he's been asked in this private interview somewhat incredulously. He is more agitated by everything than what anyone in the office is used to, and it is showing majorly in this moment._

" _Seriously?" he sighs, throwing his hands up into the air in mock defeat. "Things are good. I'm sleeping eight hours a night, I'm eating well. I got a new treadmill about six months ago, so that keeps me distracted from things at work."_

 _Cressida makes the mistake of asking him what kinds of things he's trying to be distracted from just after Katniss pops in to inform him that he faxed his paperwork. Peeta sends up a rather pleading glare before he sighs again._

" _Look, the new treadmill is great, okay? I really like the treadmill. It's cool, and pretty, and fun…I am honestly very happy with the new treadmill."_

* * *

" _No, no, hear me out. I like being single," Haymitch, waving his hands erratically around so that white liquor sloshes out of this sides of his Best Mentor mug, says. He is pouring through a rolodex on his desk._

 _"My break-up with Alma was messy. She said some things she didn't mean about me, and about Haymitch Junior. She threw a box set of_ Cheers _DVDs at me. But since swearing off of that woman, I like starting each day with a new sense of possibility. And it means I have to move on, which is already proving to be hard. But I am optimistic, because tonight I am desperate, and desperate times call for drastic measures."_

* * *

"What color dress are you planning on wearing tonight, Clove? I was just curious about the office color palette, since I will be going to the tux rental place as soon as I get off from work, and I want to coordinate with...everyone," Cato asks his secret girlfriend right in front of Katniss' desk and the cameras. He seems to think they are being inconspicuous enough, but Clove immediately begins to fidget.

"My favorite color, of course," Clove, clearly testing him, replies. "I'll see you there, Cato."

The tall man towering over her smiles as he watches her go.

"Yes, you will."

From where she sits in perfect view of it all, Katniss eyes the now-abandoned copier in bewilderment. Turning to the camera that watches her, she mouths, 'Oh my God!' before dragging her eyes away from a scene that both disgusts and intrigues her.

"They can't be together, right? No way…but maybe…ugh, it's like a car crash I can't look away from," she whispers, shuddering again at the thought of the two biggest antagonists in the office being a romantic item, a thought that is a truth to the film crew.

Looking in the camera, she asks them to let her know if they see anything. Playing the fools, the cameramen nod along with her request.

* * *

"Attention, everyone!" Haymitch bellows. "We will be having a meeting in the conference room in seven minutes in which we will discuss proper behavior and attire for tonight!"

"Thank goodness," Effie breathes, finally having the boss on her side for once.

When everyone gathers in the conference room, Haymitch immediately propels himself into a speech.

"It has come to my attention that many of you are ignorant to the ways in which you present yourselves in this office, and that can't happen tonight."

Clove snorts, "Then why are you always parading around drunk at ten in the morning?"

"That's different, that's my personality. I'm talking about the way you look. Your kinesthetic."

"You mean aesthetic," Beetee corrects him.

"Whatever, point is, we need to know what we're doing so we don't look like a crop of idiots tonight. This is a new arena, people. Madge, you've been a politician's brat for as long as we've known you, why don't you explain the origins of the Mayor's Ball?"

Put on the spot, Madge stutters a bit as she stands.

"Um, well…it's a super fun, and there's dancing, and music…and I have picked out the most gorgeous dress…"

"No, I mean historically speaking, what is there to know about the ball?"

Madge shrugs. "Oh, I don't know. It's a lot of boring stuff about laws and history...stupid things like that."

Haymitch sighs.

"Thanks you for enlightening us, Undersee. Lucky for all of you, I have a PowerPoint prepared to keep us on top of what 'black tie' means." Cato dims the lights, and Haymitch begins the slideshow, which features a series of clip art images that must have been found on Wikipedia. "Now, Black Tie, also known by its French name _Crab-cake Noir_ [a butchering of the French _Cravate Noir_ ] is a semi-formal dress code worn for events after 7 p.m. that's somewhere between white tie, which is a discussion for another day, and business casual, which you are all barely pulling off right now."

The next slide features an underwear model, which looks ironically like Finnick Odair, and a man that also strikes resemblance to Finnick in a tuxedo. Haymitch brings Madge back up for the fashion crash course of a lifetime.

* * *

 _When brought out for a private interview and asked about the photos, Finnick, slightly annoyed, confesses:_

" _Yes, I did some male modeling when I was in college, guilty as charged."_

 _By now, people in the conference room behind him have caught on that it's Finnick in the photos and are whistling and leering at him. Finnick rolls his eyes and folds his muscular arms over his muscular chest._

" _I'm sure all of the guys here did it to get dates, too. How Haymitch managed to get that deep into Google in seven minutes is more surprising to me."_

* * *

"How do we get from point A to point B? Madge and I need a volunteer to demonstrate."

Cato's hand rockets upward, but Madge picks Gale without any hesitation. The tall salesman reluctantly makes his way up to the front of the conference room and does what he is told – outstretching his arms and spreading his legs.

"Now, let's start top to bottom and see what needs fixing."

"Which is everything," Madge clarifies. Gale's eyes scream 'Save the (Former) Temp'.

Madge then goes through a series of fashion do's and don'ts with her boyfriend as a model. She verbally, and sometimes physically, tears his appearance apart until he looks like a slightly more groomed version of himself.

Gale storms out of the conference room not too soon after, with Madge hot on his trail. The cameras follow them back to Gale's desk, where he furiously types away at his computer, having declared the meeting over for himself.

"That was demeaning, Madge," Gale grumbles when she scurries up to him. "I'm getting the feeling you're embarrassed about me meeting your parents tonight, and that I'll never be good enough for your family. Do they even know I'm not from your side of the tracks?…"

Madge worries the hem of her skirt with her fingers.

"No?" she says meekly, putting on her best face of innocence to get off clean. Gale looks terrified for a moment before his usual grimace deepens.

"Unbelievable."

"Gale, it's not that. You're different from the other guys I've dated, but you're the first person I've ever actually chosen to be with," Madge tells him. "My parents have picked out dates for me since I was three years old. I've even been forced to date _Peeta_ so his parents could get a plug for their bakery."

"Mellark?!"

"It was one date in high school, Gale, and I ended up hooking up with his older brother anyway. My point is that _you_ are special, and I'm sorry that I'm trying to micromanage, but I just want my parents to see how much you mean to me."

She is near tears, and it is the most humane the Mayor's daughter has ever allowed herself to be on camera. Perhaps there is more to Madge Undersee than what meets the eye.

Gale must see what the cameras are picking up, too, because he rises, and with a rush of emotions, embraces her. Their kissing quickly escalates and they rush off to the annex.

* * *

The cameras return to the conference room, where Haymitch is still going on with the presentation.

"Okay, so next we'll need a female model. Preferably one that looks most like Pamela Anderson."

"This is wildly inappropriate," Clove, prickling over the way in which this meeting has been conducted, cries out. "We shouldn't be ogling each other like we're in a Playboy House."

"You've clearly never modeled for Playboy, then," Finnick counters, more to himself than to anyone else. Peeta overhears this and sends a worried look into the camera.

"No, Clove is right. This is far from ethical conduct in the workplace," Effie says, rising and beginning to go to shut off the projector.

She dives, as gracefully as possible in her feathery white dress that makes her look like a swan, toward Haymitch and the remote clutched in his hand. In the nick of time, Haymitch flips to the next slide, a doctored photo of himself over Brad Pitt's face as he walks Angelina Jolie down the red carpet.

"Oh…how'd that get there?" he says, acting innocently. "Right, that brings me to my final point. Before you all go, I'd like you to fill these out with anyone you know that you would like to set me up with for this evening. Responses should be back at my desk by the end of the hour."

"What happens if we don't hate anyone that much?" Cinna asks once he's been handed a card by Cato.

Haymitch smirks. "Simple. Then you're fired."

* * *

"Okay, so that's half of us who said we'd need rides going in Johanna's van, and the other half can carpool with me if I can get my sister's pick-up for the night," Wiress outlines the CAREERS emergency meeting for planning the evening's organization. "Are we missing anyone?"

Katniss is watering plants by the conference room door when Johanna spots her through her peripherals.

"Hey, Everdeen, you need a ride to the Mayor's mansion tonight? We're trying to get numbers."

The receptionist worries her lower lip with her teeth as she sets the watering can down on the windowsill.

"I'm not sure if I'm going. I've been pretty tired lately…"

"That's a poor excuse. My curfew is eleven and I'm still managing to go to this ostentatious affair for the political elite," Clove scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing Katniss with suspicion.

Johanna's eyebrows skyrocket in surprise.

Snickering, she jeers at the smaller woman, "You have your eye on some man's Liberty bells, Clovie?"

The petite brunette purses her lips in annoyance, "No. I just…told a friend I would see them there, is all."

Katniss looks into the camera and attempts to conceal a victorious grin while Johanna laughs and pulls Clove in for a nougie, ruffling some of her hair. Clove shrieks that this is harassment and struggles to be let out of the head lock.

"You sure you don't want to come, Katniss?" Wiress pries. "I think it might be fun to get all dressed up and fancy for a night on the town with everyone outside of work or one of Haymitch's weird functions."

Katniss shrugs, "I don't know…I mean, I'm in night classes every other night."

"Which is code for 'I'm sad because I don't have anyone to go with'," Johanna infers, much to Katniss' visible vexation. Johanna simply shrugs. "Don't play Brainless with me, Brainless. You're an open book. Everyone knows your secrets before you do."

"Yes, okay?" a very flustered Katniss relents. "It feels weird being single and going to something like this."

"Oh, you're going tonight, Kat?" a voice the crews and the women upstairs haven't heard in a while chimes in out of nowhere.

The cameras pan from Katniss to zoom in on Darius Lavins. He has since shaved his post-break up beard, and his gaunt face matches his long, lanky body once again. Bobbing up and down, he bounces nervously on the heels of his feet like a little child.

"I, uh…I don't know," Katniss sputters, blushing. "Are you?"

"Mayor Undersee invited the warehouse guys, yeah. I was thinking about it."

"Oh, cool."

"Yeah, cool," Darius repeats her, contributing nothing to the awkward conversation that is transpiring in front of a crowd they both seem to have forgotten is present. He nervously wrings his hands in front of him for a moment.

"So…maybe I'll see you there?"

Katniss pauses, but slowly nods after a moment of consideration.

"Yeah, maybe."

Darius' smile cannot be contained. He dodges any further looks from the women or the cameras and ducks out of the room, returning to the warehouse.

Delly, who joined the CAREERS in an attempt to make the people from Four feel more at home, pipes up, "What a sweetie! Why don't you go out with him, Katniss?"

Johanna and Clove burst into hysterical laughter at the utter irony of Delly telling Katniss she should go for the man she ended an engagement for, arguably for her boyfriend. Delly, meanwhile, looks blissfully unaware of her huge mistake. Katniss turns bright red, simmering, before she raises her chin in an attempt to raise herself above the women who cackle like hyenas.

"You know what, I'll see you all there," she says, before marching herself out of the room.

* * *

The party is alive and well at Undersee Manor when Cressida, Pollux, Castor and the crew arrive. A string quartet plays lilting music that underscores the sounds of wealthy politicians mingling and clinking glasses. Waiters dressed in fine burgundy velvet vests carry endless trays of delicious-looking food and drink to and from the main dining area that the cameras—and Caesar and Effie, who are thrilled to finally be wining and dining with the Allentown elite—follow around for a while. Roasted meats, fresh exotic fruits, seafood drizzled in savory sauses, nuts, imported cheeses, breads, vegetables, sweets, and waterfalls of wine line the tables and adorn the silver platters from the waiters.

* * *

 _Both Effie and Caesar, who the cameras are used to sporting more vibrant outfits and wigs, are much more muted in their appearances this evening. Effie dons a gold cocktail dress, and her natural blonde hair brushes her shoulders. Caesar, meanwhile, still sports navy blue in his hair, but his fancy suit matches it in a rather subdued way._

" _Look at all of this yummy food!" Caesar exclaims in his usual animated fashion, throwing his head back and laughing with glee. "I haven't seen this much food in my life!"_

" _At this rate, I will be entirely too full before midnight!" Effie chimes in, already tipsy from the endless supply of wine. Beaming with pride, she tells Caesar, "Eyes bright, chins up, smiles on. Breathe it all in. This is what living looks like! Come, come, I hear the Lamb Stew is to die for…"_

 _The two giggle and scamper off to find more of the delicacies this party has to offer_ _._

* * *

Delly and Peeta arrive, soaking in the entire scene from the doorway. They are immediately handed champagne flutes by one of the waiters.

"This looks cozy," Peeta jokes, eliciting another one of Delly's laughs as he escorts her over to a quieter corner of the party.

Clove arrives after them, dressed in a long, black dress that comes down to her knees and covers almost all of her skin. Cato, who has been eyeing the table of food like it is about to be devoured up until this point, diverts his attention to the newest arrival. Cameraman Pollux rushes up to Katniss, who is attempting not to get chocolate from the fountain on her pale yellow dress, and signals to her to watch as Cato abandons the food and stands at an intimate distance from Clove by the entryway.

"You remembered the color."

"Of course I did. Hello, Clove."

Clove nods tersely. "You look nice."

"You look beautiful, like a lady of the night," Cato says, flirting with her in a way that can only be described as unique. Clove projects the beginning of an objection, given that Cato inadvertently insinuated that she looks like a prostitute, but the camera catches her smiling in spite of this error.

"Thank you."

He begins to lean in to kiss her, but she immediately recoils and demands that he turn around so she may hang a sharp left in the opposite direction. Pollux pulls the camera back on Katniss, who is beaming at the positive results of her little side project.

"Tonight just got so much better, thank you!" she says, giving the cameraman a thumbs up. She motions for them to follow her over to Wiress, deciding to go just a bit further with her investigation and get another source.

"Hey, Wiress, people tell you a lot of their secrets. Have you heard of any secret office romances?"

Wiress looks into the cameras and giggles coyly before she turns back to Katniss.

"Isn't it obvious? You may as well have a sign."

Katniss rears back, confused by Wiress' seemingly mindless chattering.

"Huh?"

Wiress' giggles subside long enough to ask, "You mean you and Peeta, right?"

The receptionist is suddenly speechless, and Wiress immediately takes it back.

"I'm sorry! I just thought…you two spent so much time together, I mean…I'm sorry …"

Dismissing the whole blunder, Katniss shakes her head and begins to back away.

"No, it's okay. Enjoy the party, Wiress."

* * *

" _Just because two people are good friends doesn't mean we can assume anything, you know?" Katniss further claims when she decides she doesn't want to snoop on Clove and Cato anymore. "It was unfair of me to assume that just because two people are talking that it means something."_

 _Anyone watching can see that she's lying to herself to forget about the blonde salesman Wiress claimed she was seeing in secret. Anyone watching can also see Cato evacuating a coat closet about thirty seconds after Clove over Katniss' shoulder. Hair mussed, rental tux wrinkled, and lips swollen, he ducks into the crowd to make sure he hasn't been seen._

* * *

When the cameras find Madge, she is positioned on her father's right side, while her mother stands like a beautiful statue attached to Dale Undersee's arm. They are exchanging pleasantries with Cinna and his wife Portia when Madge lets out an uncharacteristic squeal of joy and bolts to the entrance, where a very handsomely done-up Gale Hawthorne stands stoically.

Before she can wrap her arms around his neck and plant a public kiss on her boyfriend's lips, he grasps her hand, presses his lips to her cheek with a quick peck, and extends his arm for her to latch onto as they make their way into the party.

"Margaret, a pleasure to see you this evening," he says, donning a new way of speaking so polite and articulate it almost sounds like a put-on accent. "A pleasure to see you this evening."

Madge is grinning from ear to ear.

"You've been practicing," she whispers. The corners of Gale's lips pull into a big smile, which seems foreign for the man's preferred scowl. "C'mon, let's go introduce you to my parents."

* * *

 _Gale is asked almost immediately following the introductions how he cleaned up so nicely so fast._

" _I used Haymitch's stupid eHarmony index card to make a cheat sheet for myself on how to behave like a gentleman. I know everything from salad forks to where Chairman of the Press stands on fossil fuels," Gale says, patting the pocket by his lapel, which sports a fresh white flower, with pride. "As long as I've got this bad boy, I'm just as good as any other boyfriend Madge's parents have set her up with."_

* * *

Haymitch arrives on the scene with Finnick, instead of the buxom woman he had in mind earlier. While Finnick surveys the crowd as though it is promising, Haymitch looks like he is dreading every second going forward.

* * *

" _No, not a single person in that office could find it in themselves to be charitable, after all I have done for them," Haymitch spits angrily when asked about his woman-hunt from earlier. "Everyone was either ugly, or unavailable, or just not my type. Johanna set me up with her dead cousin. Finnick, bless his soul, was the only one who stepped forward and offered to drive me since he couldn't stand to see me upset."_

 _He throws up his hands in the air out of frustration._

" _I just don't get how it's so hard to put yourself back out there and find someone nice, you know? Someone you just vibe with, who knows exactly what's on your mind before you even know it. Yes, Alma was manipulative about it, but I liked that…sorta…"_

 _A waiter comes by and offers glasses of red wine. Haymitch takes two, claiming one is for his girlfriend, and downs both glasses immediately._

" _Growing up, it was just me, my mom, and my little brother around the house…until she married this asshole named Jeff. Jeff was a real man's man. He all but murdered my family with his strict ways. All the sudden, my mom went from being this sweet woman to being…so critical of the women I brought home. They were always too skinny, or too rude, or kept stealing money out of Jeff's purse…I just for once want someone she'd approve of, which is ironic, because I'll always hate her pick, Jeff."_

* * *

"Remind me why you dragged me out here again, Odair? You're pretty, but you're just not my type. No offense," Haymitch grumbles, taking a miserable swig out of the flask that materialized from somewhere previously hidden in his tux.

Finnick flashes his pristine white smile before popping a stick of Trident gum into his mouth.

"Because you, my boss, have been given a great opportunity. Why settle for just one lady when you can have your pick of the lot?" Slapping Haymitch on the back, the former male model comes around to face the manager. Fixing up his posture, smoothing back his hair, and straightening his bow tie, Finnick steps back to admire his work. "You're a handsome man, Haymitch. Any of these sexually frustrated law makers would be lucky to do some rule-breaking with you tonight."

At this vote of encouragement, Haymitch bucks up a little.

"You're right. Thanks man."

"Bros before hoes," Finnick simply says with a smirk.

"So, we're gonna wingman for each other?" Haymitch innocently asks.

Finnick nearly chokes on his gum.

"Oh, no. I flirt like I fly: solo," he clarifies to the older regional manager. "But if you need me at all, give a little whistle, and I'll come and help you out. Have a good night, Haymitch. I hope you can remember most of it."

Cato, who has been stewing as he watches this friendly exchange happen between Haymitch and his competition, swoops in as soon as Finnick has cleared the area.

"What do you need, Haymitch? Champagne? Hors d'oeuvres? A back rub? It's my job to be there for you, unlike Finnick…"

"I need you to get the hell away from me, that's what I need," Haymitch growls, shoving the shell-shocked young blonde out of his way. "Never gonna get a girl with you breathing _Star Wars_ facts down my neck."

* * *

It comes to a slight shock to Katniss when she is joined by the person she least expected to interact with this evening at the dessert table.

"So, Everdeen," Peeta begins, grinning as he sidles up to her. He's obviously been drinking, and his confidence is up while his guard appears to be back down a little. "When are you going to get out there and play that big old grand piano the Undersees have been gloating about all night?"

Katniss swallows her surprise with another chocolate covered strawberry and dabs her mouth with a napkin. She snorts as she looks over at the piano, which Cato is examining with great attention while Clove looks on.

"Um, never." Gesturing toward the drink in her hands, she adds, "Besides, I'm pacing myself so I don't get to that point."

"C'mon, get out there and give these people the show they want."

"No! With my luck, I'd trip over the piano and break something—which will probably cost me my life's savings. I'm the biggest Klutz I know."

"Oh, I know. Your walking is worse than your dancing—especially at that one New Year's party at Johanna's," he jokes, earning a feigned look of offense and a playful slap on his arm. "It's adorable, though."

Katniss pauses mid-laugh to stare at him, unsure of how to take this compliment from him now.

"How do you remember things like that?" she asks, like the wind has been knocked out of her.

Peeta shrugs, popping a pastry into his mouth.

"I remember everything about you. You were always the one who wasn't paying attention," he says simply. Once he realizes what he's said, his eyes go wide and he meets her stare.

The cameras watch as her gray eyes skitter over his face for any signs of the old Peeta – presumably the one who grabbed her and kissed her at the speakeasy.

But the energy between them becomes too much to handle, and when Delly calls Peeta out to the ballroom floor, he quickly backs away.

* * *

" _I mean, hypothetically, if Katniss was even interested…" a now drunk and honest Peeta tells the cameras in private when he is asked what just happened._

 _He shakes his head abruptly, dismissively, probably before any more thoughts of the receptionist can enter his head._

" _That doesn't matter, though. It's not real, anyway, so we should just drop it."_

* * *

As the night goes on, the cameras lose track of Haymitch Abernathy and his pursuit to find fulfillment in the form of love. When he is finally spotted again, dancing to a completely different beat than the adagio filling the room, it is obvious that the constant access to alcohol has only hindered his endeavors and soured his mood.

He's in the middle of swaying to another song in his head, mouthing along to AC/DC lyrics, when he bumps into a woman. She is tall and slender, with pointed facial features and strange yellow flecks in her hazel eyes.

Instead of being completely turned off by Haymitch, she surprisingly humors him by laughing at his clumsiness.

"I'll have what you're having," she remarks. Wiping her hands along her ruby red dress, she extends a greeting toward the regional manager. "I'm Amelia Leeg, one of the District Commissioners. And you are?"

Haymitch blinks, taking in the sight of a woman talking to him.

"I'm—I'm sorry, I'm blown away by how smokin' you are," he states rather bluntly.

This causes Amelia to flush with flattery and lean in toward him, which is an immediate indication that Haymitch may have bumped into the only politician in the room whose nose isn't upturned at everything around her.

"You're sweet. Would you like a dance partner?"

They dance for some time, Amelia leading Haymitch's lazy hooves for most of it, before she gets touched on her elbow by another man who eyes Haymitch skeptically. The intruder motions her over to someone who'd love to speak with her about the Commissioner's Office.

"Work matters," she says, rolling her unique eyes. She reaches into her purse, grabs a pen and a napkin, and writes her number down to give to Haymitch. "Call me for another dance, Mister Abernathy."

Haymitch looks right into the cameras, so smitten with himself that he cannot speak for once.

When he whirls around in excitement, he stumbles back a bit from the shock. A woman that looks exactly like Amelia Leeg, minus the gold in her eyes and the pleasant smile, stands tall in a silver dress speaking to one of the Mayor's colleagues.

Haymitch grins dopily at the stranger.

"Missed me, Sweetheart?" Haymitch asks the other woman, clearly not registering that this isn't the woman who just gave him her number. The lookalike Leeg's eyebrows knit together in confusion when Haymitch pulls her away from her conversation and starts to dance with her.

* * *

"May I have this dance?" Darius, looking even cleaner than he had when Katniss last saw him, asks his ex-fiancee, who has been hanging by the dessert table ever since her conversation with Peeta.

Breaking herself from her trance, Katniss presses forth a smile Darius' way and takes his hand as he leads her out onto the dance floor. They move with familiarity, and they both seem oddly comforted by this in a place where they are so completely out of their elements. The cameras catch Darius watching Katniss with a lovelorn look in his wide eyes as she stares at the swirling colors in the ballroom around them.

"Are you enjoying the party?" he asks.

"It's a little overwhelming," Katniss candidly remarks, earning a chuckle from him. "But I'm glad I came."

"Yeah, me too," he agrees. Looking up into the giant chandelier that glitters above their heads, he smiles a rather bemused smile to himself. "You know, call me crazy, but I haven't stopped thinking that this is what our wedding could have been like."

Katniss turns to stone in his arms. Her eyes downcast, she goes back to swaying and mutters, pleadingly, "Darius…"

"I'm serious, Kat. The dancing, the dressed up folks, the food…sure, it's a more high-scale version of what could have been, but this could have been ours."

"I never wanted any of this," Katniss says, gesturing to the mountains of food and the diamond-wearing one percenters. "I would have been just as happy getting married in the Justice Building downtown. You wanted the fancy, expensive event."

Darius lowers his voice, "I would have married you wherever, as long as I got to marry you."

Finally, Katniss lets her gaze float back up to Darius' crooked smile. Just as their eyes meet, the opening chords of "Someone to Watch Over Me" begins to play. Katniss emits a small gasp.

"That's our wedding song," she whispers, and Darius nods.

"I kinda paid the quartet twenty bucks to play it," he confesses, and he beams when he is met with a genuine, loving look from his former bride-to-be rather than utter resistance and coldness.

Wordlessly, she pulls him against her for a crushing hug, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing in both him and the safe harbor that he once provided for her. When they break apart, her eyes are glittering with thankful tears.

"You wanna get out of here? Go to Ripper's and get those disgusting greasy burgers you love so much?" he offers, and Katniss laughs as she nods in affirmation. A shocked, yet thrilled grin spread over his pale, freckly face. "Great, I'll go grab our coats."

He darts off, and when Katniss is jolted back to reality as soon as he's out of sight, she looks over her shoulder to the sea of swaying couples behind her. The camera refocuses as her eyeline matches with Peeta's. He watches over Delly's shoulder before quickly pulling his eyes away once he gets caught.

* * *

" _You know what's not hypothetical," Peeta somewhat angrily states in another private interview, "is the fact that I am with Delly, and I like being with Delly. So, there you have it."_

* * *

Haymitch has just gone to fetch the woman in the silver dress a drink when he turns around and is blind-sighted by her twin in red, Amelia, approaching him from the other end of the bar. The woman he _thinks_ he should be getting a drink for stops to speak with her sister. When the cameras catch a closer inspection of the two of them, the women look almost identical. Even their dresses are the exact same, minus their color.

Speechless and sputtering, Haymitch anxiously volleys his gaze between the two women before it dawns on him.

"There's two Leegs," he mutters to himself and the cameras. He downs the drink that is meant for Amelia in an attempt to quell his panic and think quickly when he sees them both turning to look at him.

From behind the lens, operator Castor coughs a little to get Haymitch's attention. He motions downward with the camera to remind Haymitch of the napkin with the phone number he has clutched in his hand. Haymitch's eyes brighten as he thanks Castor and whips out his cell phone.

When the familiar ring of an iPhone goes off in the red Leeg's purse, she tosses an impish grin Haymitch's way while Haymitch releases the breath he's been holding in.

"There you are, Stranger," she remarks, coming toward him. Her sister follows close behind.

Haymitch laughs along with her, and grabbing the pen she wrote down her number with, writes a "1" on her arm while he envelopes her in a hug. For good measure, he adds a "2" to the other Leeg's arm while she isn't looking.

"You know, my sister Amanda and I were just talking about how you're exactly the right height for me. Ever been to a correspondent's dinner, Handsome?"

Gulping, Haymitch shakes his head.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?" the Leeg in silver asks. When Haymitch cranes his neck to check on which one she is, he notes the "2" and attempts to commit it to memory by whispering it to himself. The Leegs exchange a look filled with silent communication and secret language before bursting into laughter together. Even their laughs mold into one. Haymitch looks like he's seeing stars.

"He's a funny one, isn't he, Amelia?"

"Oh, come on, Amanda. I happen to think he's sweet," Amelia chides her sister. Flipping some of her long, pin-straight flaxen hair over her shoulder, she leans back in toward Haymitch. "What my sister means to ask is what your job is…we have such a silly reputation of exclusively dating men in politics."

Haymitch, caught in between his pride and his drunken bleariness, goes as pale as a ghost. The Leegs exchange another look of concern.

"I, uh," he finally croaks. Nothing else comes out, and Amelia and Amanda eye him curiously.

He is saved by the bell—or the clinking of forks against glasses—as everyone's attention is diverted to the podium at the front of the ballroom where the Mayor is about to make a speech. Something flickers in Haymitch's eyes, and he quickly beckons Cato over. The bumbling brute nearly trips a waiter getting to him, but Cato is standing at attention before Haymitch and impressing the Leeg sisters within seconds.

"What do you need, Haymitch?"

"I don't suppose you can fix me a hot towel before I help the Mayor give his speech."

"Hot towel? Where am I supposed to get a hot towel? And why are you helping the Mayor? Did he ask you for help?" Cato asks, squinting in confusion. Haymitch eyes him crossly.

"Just do it, and that's an order."

Cato, blissfully unaware of how he is being used in a prop to Haymitch's newly concocted charade, bows at the waist.

"One hot towel coming up, my liege," he says before running off.

"You have an assistant," one of the Leegs remarks, pleased. Haymitch nods.

"Oh, yes He's quite the burden, but he gets the job done right. Only the best for Mayor Undersee's top associate," he says, causing the sisters to reel back in excitement.

"Well, shouldn't you be up there helping with the speech?" Amanda, Leeg 2, asks. "It looks like the Mayor is being joined by all of his associates."

Haymitch heaves a heavy sigh, exhausted by all of the work he is being asked to do on a night off in order to get the girl, and complies. He awkwardly tries to wedge himself in between two men in suits much fancier than his own, and when he is shut out of the formation, he stands at the end of the row, closest to the waits staff. This earns a look of disapproval from the woman (or women, given he can't tell who is who still) he is trying to court.

At the front of the ballroom, the Mayor is bellowing a welcome address to his guests and colleagues, "Thank you all for being here tonight, on this eve of celebration! It is truly an honor to be sharing this momentous time in my life with my family, friends, trusted colleagues, and even my help!"

The people at his sides laugh, and Haymitch is forced to follow along. A bead of sweat forms at his temple as his eyes skitter over to the sisters, who are whispering conspiratorially to themselves as they eye Haymitch and the other men.

"And, thanks to my lovely daughter, Margaret, we have very special guests here tonight: the men and women of the District Twelve Branch at Panem Electric. Let's give them a round of applause, shall we?"

Madge buries her head in her hands, humiliated.

As the crowd claps politely for the little-known commoners of District Twelve, the Mayor adds, "Chauncy, put a spotlight on Haymitch Abernathy, since he manages the humble folk who work with my daughter."

Ever the strategist in times of crisis, Haymitch immediately tries to evacuate the line by hiding behind the actual advisors, unintentionally pushing himself closer to the Mayor.

As Chauncy searches for Haymitch and the spotlight dances around the room, the cameras catch the discontented reactions of the District Twelve people.

Johanna leans over to Boggs and mutters, "Humble folk? Are we supposed to be on our knees in veneration right now?"

Cato, towel scalding his hands in a game of hot potato, locates Haymitch before Chauncy can shouts, "There he is! Up there! That's our boss!"

The light lands on Haymitch, causing him to hold his hand up to block out the blinding brightness. He is now directly next to Dale Undersee. Only the sounds of Cato's uproarious cheering can be heard. When the camera cranes over to the Leeg sisters, they are wearing identical frowns.

"Oh, haha, I didn't see you there, Haymitch," the Mayor awkwardly pronounces. "You may join the rest of your group, now."

But Haymitch, too drunk to know when to quit, takes this as a cue to barge up to the Mayor and take the mic from right out of his hands.

"Yes, thank you. We, the esteemed members of a prestigious coal company, want to thank you…for your patronage…and we hope…we hope to see an impact in our schools. Tax rates are…not great…we need jobs! Let the voices of the people be heard…"

As he rattles off a list of jargon and phrases he must have heard from politicians tonight, the Leegs, both looking disgusted, start off. Haymitch, in a last ditch attempt to win and woo the woman he so desperately wanted to win tonight, calls out her last name, causing both to stop and turn.

"Yeah, I fibbed. But don't all politicians?" he says with candor, "But I love you. Ever since I saw you in that…shiny…dress, I knew I had to have you."

Clove gasps and cups her hand over her mouth. Boggs and Johanna avert their eyes. Beetee backpedals deeper into the crowd in an attempt to disappear completely before ever being associated with the likes of his manager. Madge audibly groans and smacks Gale's broad chest.

"Oh, really," Leeg 1 deadpans, planting her hands on her slender hips. "Then which one of us was it?"

Figuring he has a fifty-fifty shot, Haymitch drops the mic and fumbles over to Leeg 2. Leeg 1 scoffs as she and her sister leave Haymitch in a heap on the floor by the entry way.

"Well, that was…something. On with the party, then!" the Mayor shouts, sending a cheer into the audience.

Haymitch, meanwhile, looks up to see Finnick Odair frowning at him. Attached to his hip is a gorgeous blonde woman in a shimmery pink gown.

"Tough break, man. She just wasn't the one. I'm going to take Cashmere home, so you can get a ride with someone else, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Finnick starts to jet off with the woman. "Catch you on Monday, boss!"

The manager is then promptly met by three of the Mayor's security guards, who show him out of the Manor.

* * *

Darius returns after all of the excitement has died down, with Katniss' coat draped over his arm.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," Katniss says, letting Darius help her into her coat sleeves.

"I'm real happy we're giving this another shot, Kat," Darius says earnestly. "I promise, we can do this right this time. I want us to make it."

Eyeing him for a moment, Katniss visibly debates something in her head. She sighs, her shoulders caving in toward her chest.

"I do too, Darius. But in order for us to make it, there shouldn't be any secrets between us."

Immediately flying to the defensive, Darius throws up his hands as a display of his innocence.

"I didn't do anything. I swear. Ask any of the guys. I totally could've, but I didn't."

"No, I know, D. It—it was me," Katniss tells him, belaboring every word that will come out of her mouth next. "There's something you should know. Remember that speakeasy fundraiser, a few months before we were supposed to get married? I kissed Peeta."

The cameras zoom right in on Darius, who seems to have trouble processing the information. He flinches, and the composure seen all night from him begins to hiccup.

"What?"

"He told me how he felt, and I guess I had feelings too, and we kissed…"

Darius shakes his head, incredulous. "Mellark came onto you?"

"Please, Darius, just listen."

If Haymitch were still in the room, he would call Darius 'Ginger Snap' for what happens next. In the blink of an eye, he turns as red as his flaming hair, and like the angry raging bull seen at the Halloween party, he lunges toward her and begins to shout. Katniss yelps and leaps away from him.

"I am listening, Katniss, that's the problem!" he shouts. Everyone within earshot of the pair stops to watch the man unravel, including a very concerned-looking Peeta.

"Don't yell," Katniss' voice timidly urges him.

"Don't yell? Don't _yell_? I find out my fiancée cheated on me when we were together and I don't get to _yell_?" Darius screams at full volume now.

When the cameras look to Peeta, he is standing in a position ready to attack Darius should he approach Katniss again. Delly remains frozen at his side.

Unable to get anything else out with his boiling anger, Darius reaches for the closest breakable object to smash, which happens to be the quartet violinist's bow. He cracks it in half on his knee and waves the two sharpened points like a crazed madman as a periled scream rips from his chest, sending everyone around him rippling away. Katniss, feet planted firmly on the ground, goes ghastly pale as she shakes before him while still attempting to stand her ground.

Peeta notes the way in which the man's body is positioned toward his ex and lurches out of Delly's grasp.

"Katniss, get out of here! Go!" Peeta shouts, and it triggers Darius to lash out at the air in what he thinks is Peeta's direction. His weapon comes swinging down dangerously toward Katniss, the strings on the bow nearly whipping her just under the eye.

Immediately, the redhead drops the bow, his eyes widening with regret for his temper taking over once again as I realizes that he nearly hurt Katniss. A stream of apologies fly from his mouth as he advances on Katniss in an entirely different manner.

Katniss bolts just in time for two of the warehouse guys to grab a groveling Darius and carry his thrashing form away from the crowd. He is then taken by two guards, toward the sirens and flickering police lights just outside the Manor. Cressida and Pollux follow after Katniss while the crowd looks on at Darius.

Meanwhile, Messalla and Castor film Peeta's reaction to the whole mess. He only pauses for a few moments, staring listlessly as he enters his own world inside his head, before snapping back to reality. All traces of his drunken self have vanished.

"I have to go find her," Peeta says to no one in particular. Delly, still given no explanation as to what is going on, given up until this point Darius had been the 'Sweetie' she described earlier, turns to stare at him with wide-eyes.

"What's happening, Peeta?"

"Katniss gets bad panic attacks. The sirens probably aren't helping, they'll just bring up flashbacks…"

"Peeta, I can't help if I don't know what's going on. Why would sirens cause Katniss to have a panic attack?"

"I have to make sure she's somewhere safe," Peeta explains hastily and vaguely to his girlfriend. He doesn't even glance at Delly as he frantically scans the room for any sign of Katniss' signature braid. When he comes up short, he hisses a slew of curse words to himself.

"Go find her," Delly urges, albeit somewhat glumly, when she sees how worked up he's getting. "I'll stay here, make sure she isn't hiding in any of the vents downstairs."

Peeta rushes off, and as both she and the cameras watch him run after Katniss, Delly Cartwright's soft, round face falls when the realization dawns on her.

* * *

" _WHAT A RUSH!" Caesar says with a boisterous laugh while unpacking boxes from the back of his car._

 _When asked what he is doing with all of his equipment for his DJ-ing events, he goes into a rather lengthy recap of what has just happened before actually answering the question._

" _Well, Darius Lavins, formerly bethrothed to Katniss Everdeen, lashed out in violence, and the police came to take him away. Katniss Everdeen is now missing, and Peeta Mellark is looking for her. Everyone, it seems, is falling tonight! The quartet refused to play due to the traumatic attack on their violinist, so in a last minute attempt to save the party, DJ C-FLICK was hired! The Mayor seemed reluctant, but Madge put in a good word for me."_

 _Smiling reverently, he wipes a tear from under his eye._

" _After a roller coaster of an evening like tonight has been, it's just nice to win one."_

* * *

Cato and Clove are in the middle of a heated, passionate, private moment when Katniss bursts through the glass door to the outdoor terrace. As she grips onto the concrete railing overlooking the garden below, her breaths shallow and her eyes nearly bulging out of her head, the two of them scramble to gather their clothes and escape into the shadows without being seen in an ironic twist that would have ended Katniss' hunch right then and there.

But it appears as though there are more pressing matters. With shaky fingers, she searches her bag for a small pill box, which she throws angrily out into the garden when she discovers it's empty. Katniss backs herself up against the wall of the terrace and sinks to the ground just as the bumping beats of DJ C-Flick get the party going again downstairs.

When Peeta comes barreling through those same doors a moment later, she tries to get up.

"Sit back down," he orders.

"I'm fine," Katniss insists.

"Sit down," Peeta orders, his voice firm. "Did you take your pills?"

"I didn't refill them before I left. Thanks, Nurse Jackie," Katniss says, still managing her usual dry commentary. The sirens, which have been drowned out by the music, pass by as the cars holding Darius pull out, and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly.

Kneeling in front of her, Peeta tells her that he's going to take her pulse.

"You really don't need to…"

"Katniss," Peeta cuts her off, pressing two fingers to the pulse point beneath her jawline and ignoring her bravado. "I'm going to ask you some questions. What's your name? How old are you? Where do you work?"

The panicked receptionist takes a few more gulping breaths before her unfocused eyes train on a spot just above Peeta's head.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am twenty-six years old. I work at the District Twelve Branch of Panem Electric. Why are you doing this?"

"Because we both get panic attacks and you told me this is how to calm you down if it ever happens when we're together," Peeta answers, now seeming more like a friend than a nurse. Katniss' breath begins to even out. "Breathe from your abdomen, imagine yourself in a safe place, or something you like…think about the meadow from the house you grew up in, or Prim."

Despite her embarrassment and her panic, Katniss manages a smile.

"There she is. Welcome back, Everdeen," Peeta, wearing his old half-smile, announces. "I'm gonna take your pulse again."

Katniss' face surges with a newfound panic when his fingers graze the skin of her neck again.

"How is it?" she asks after a moment.

"Better. Before it was like you were made of Rice Krispies."

"You should go downstairs to the party," Katniss says after laughing weakly at his joke. Her voice is thick with worry. "I took you away from it, so you should go and enjoy the rest of your night…"

"I can't. Not until I know you're alright. Look at me," Peeta says, his electric blue eyes waiting patiently for her stubborn silver eyes to comply with his order. "You're safe. You're awesome."

An unspoken moment transpires between them, and it's enough to let them both know that they have a shot at being friends again after all. Peeta quickly reaches into his pocket, grabs her hand, and closes her fingers over the item he has bestowed upon her. Katniss unravels her hand to reveal the pearl from earlier that day.

"Peeta…"

"Keep it. To protect you. When you have that pearl, nothing bad can happen to you."

Before she can object anymore to the gesture, he rises, dusts off is suit, and tells her he's going to be downstairs if she needs anything else.

Katniss clutches the pearl to her chest and exhales deeply.

* * *

Cressida and Pollux decide to leave Katniss alone for the rest of the night and follow Peeta back downstairs. Everyone, even the seemingly stiff elitists, are managing to kick up their heels and let go now that Caesar is manning the turntables.

But Delly Cartwright sits alone, nervously picking at her cuticles in a chair by the chocolate fountain. Peeta fills the empty seat next to her, staring ahead at the party that goes on without them. Silence lingers between the pair for a moment before Delly clears her throat to speak.

"Just tell me the truth…do you still have feelings for her?"

She waits for an answer, even the one she doesn't want to hear, but Peeta's prolonged silence tells her everything she needs to know.

"I'm going to get a ride home with Wiress," she says as she rises and leaves Peeta to mull over the silent revelation.

* * *

Gale finishes up a conversation about legislation on environmental impacts of greenhouse gas emissions and skiing in Aspen, both of which he nails thanks to his trusty card, when he excuses himself like a perfect gentleman to go to the bathroom. He cannot help but toss a grin into the cameras at the fact that he catches several looks of approval being thrown Madge's way before he leaves her side.

When he returns, he stops dead in his tracks, watching Madge in a heated discussion with her parents. Her mother's pinched face is screwed even tighter than it was before, and her father is as red as the wine in his glass.

"I don't want to hear this right now from you two, alright? I didn't come here tonight to get yelled at in front of all my work friends. Can't you just be happy for me that I'm doing things for myself for once?" Madge talks back to her parents like a teenager would, even speaking over the Mayor. Several of the waiters and maids chatter amongst themselves in the corner.

"Margaret, stop this tantrum right this instant," the Mayor urges in a trained voice, yet it trembles with anger and embarrassment. He looks around to make sure no one is watching. He sees the crowd of Panem employees standing just several feet behind him, however, and changes his tune, "Of course we're happy for you…but these _people_ you work with are just _…not_ the kind of company we're used to seeing you with, is all..."

"Don't lie to her, Dale," her mother snaps, overshadowing the semi-kind words of her husband regarding District Twelve. She is uncaring of who watches her as she scoffs. "Madge, you honestly want us to be proud of you for having some customer service job at a rinky dink coal company filled with nobodies? They are ruining this evening for our family. We have a reputation to uphold! Gale is a salesman, and makes next to no money. Thom Whittaker, on the other hand, is newly single… _and_ he's a doctor…"

The cameras zoom back in to watch Gale. He plays with the card in his hands, letting it run over his fingers for a moment while he goes about wallowing in self-pity, before he storms back into the bathroom. The sounds of something being flushed can be heard.

* * *

 _Inside the bathroom, Gale is in the middle of undoing his tie._

" _Screw it, you know? It was dumb of me to think I could be someone I'm not, anyway…I'm just gonna slip out, text Madge to tell her I'll be giving her some space, and go back to work on Monday at my rinky dink coal company filled with nobodies."_

 _Realizing that this may be the final straw for him and Madge, a strange look of relief, and a little elation, lightens his expression._

" _Maybe this is all some part of a greater plan…who knows."_

* * *

Madge scrunches her nose in disgust.

"You want me to marry a doctor? You two are insufferable…"

"Where are you going, young lady?"

"My room, since you won't send me there! I'm an adult, and I can do what I want," Madge screams back, now getting the attention of most of the party. Her path of destruction intersects with Gale's escape route, and he is caught in an unexpected twist of fate when she grabs him by the back of the collar and pulls him against her, kissing him fiercely. "And I'm going there with my incredibly hot boyfriend, who's bad at sales but is a really good boyfriend to me…"

"Madge, about that…" Gale starts, attempting yet again to weasel his way out of the relationship, granted on more substantial grounds now that he's decided that he doesn't fit in with her family. Madge simply kisses him again before dragging him off and flipping her parents the finger as she goes. Cressida makes a note that the crew will need to blur that out.

"Oh, and by the way, _none_ of the _nobodies_ at work voted for you, Daddy, because you don't care about companies like Panem and they have enough sense and self-respect to know that! Feel free to kick them all out whenever, because we don't need you and your stupid friends!"

She leaves, slamming the door in truly rebellious, childlike fashion. Mayor Undersee, his jaw nearly hanging to the floor, turns with his wife to the crowd of remaining Panem employees who are guiltily gathered by Caesar's DJ stand. Regardless of who they voted for in the recent election for Mayor, they have all been exposed. Johanna drops food in her lap mid-chew.

"This is no good, we better leave," Caesar announces into his microphone. He then instructs Effie over that same loudspeaker to stuff some crab cakes into her purse.

* * *

" _That was liberating!" Madge breathes, still clutching Gale in an ironclad grasp during her private interview just outside of her plush looking pink bedroom. "I've never stood up to them like that before. It just felt so good to…stick it to them."_

 _An idea pops into her head, and she gazes up at her bewildered boyfriend with newfound excitement._

" _We should get married and_ really _show them! You'd be part of this family forever and they'd hate that!"_

 _A very wide-eyed Gale, now both figuratively and literally trapped, looks into the camera as Madge bounces up and down with delight at the idea._

* * *

"Prime real estate you've got there, Haymitch," Peeta says, mirroring his boss' sentiment from over a year ago when Haymitch found Peeta sitting on the curb outside of Panem after the Halloween party.

The evening has died down, and the two men are some of the only guests still lingering.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure this curb cost more than anything my back account's ever seen, so you're not wrong," the manager fires back. "I couldn't find a ride, so I slept on the lawn for a while. Seemed less pathetic than loitering at the time…then they turned the sprinklers on."

Peeta refrains from a very easy round of sarcastic comments and chooses to simply sit next to Haymitch. Silently, they look up at the sky of stars for a while before Haymitch takes a full champagne flute out from under his coat and drinks it.

"That Commissioner was the one. My girl," Haymitch states with a forlorn, rubbing lazy circles into the soiled knees of his dress pants. Peeta shakes his head.

"No, she wasn't."

"How can you be sure?"

"Well, for starters, I've known you as a couple since the beginning of the 'relationship'," Peeta mocks. Checking the watch strapped to his wrist, he adds, "Which has been only a few hours, as of midnight…"

"Don't make fun of me, boy."

"Sorry."

They fall back into a comfortable silence, starring at fancy limos as they drive past them. Suddenly, Haymitch bursts into laughter.

"I guess I didn't know her as well as I thought…I marked her arm," Haymitch says through fits of giggles.

"You what?"

"She had a twin. I couldn't tell them apart. I labeled them '1' and '2'."

Peeta, stunned at first by this alarming confession, decides he's had enough of tonight's twists and elects to just join in on the much needed laugh. The two men share in a cathartic laugh for what feels like ages before Haymitch groans and buries his head in his hands.

"Ugh, why do I still feel like crap?" he mutters.

"Because you got hurt by someone you thought you loved, and you just had a rebound," Peeta admits honestly. Looking down at his hands, he releases a shaky breath before he goes on. "Don't get me wrong, it can be a fun distraction, but when it's over, you're left thinking about the girl you really like. The one who broke your heart."

"So, you're saying I should get back together with Alma?"

"No. Absolutely not. When hell freezes over, sure, but maybe not even then," Peeta supplies quickly, stopping that train of thought before it can derail into a very bad idea. "Some advice: take some time to yourself, first. Get used to being you again."

Peeta's phone rings, and Delly's name and picture light up his screen.

"I, ah, should take this. You're good to get home, Haymitch?"

He rises quickly and turns to his manager one last time before heading out, presumably to make amends with his girlfriend.

The boss nods. "Yeah, Cato's supposed to be taking me home. Haven't seen him in like thirty minutes, though. I wonder where that idiot is…probably forgot where he parked…"

The cameras pan to some bushes just about two dozen yards away, where upon hearing his name, a half-naked Cato hops out of the bushes and instructs Clove, still hidden behind the trimmed hedges, to meet him back at his place after he completes his duty.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy New Year! One of my resolutions was to get a new chapter of this fic up, so I'm keeping my word. Hope you liked everything! This chapter tended to lean on the dramatic side, but I felt that it gave way to some of the characters' layers like Madge and Haymitch in ways the satire hasn't been able to show before. Also, I'm not the most politically-outspoken person, but the Mayor's ball was more to represent and poke the parties in the Capitol and the stark class divide seen in the books rather than exerting any political opinions'agendas on readers.**

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of the chapter in reviews! Two more episodes left in year two, so hold on tight!**

 **-ILoVeWicked**


	10. Year Two: Tick Tock, This is a Clock

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both The Hunger Games and The Office (US) belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 2, Episode 5: Tick Tock, This is a Clock**

Peeta is working at his computer when he randomly declares that it needs to reboot again. The familiar sound of a Windows PC starting up chimes. Whistling to himself, Peeta reaches into a Tupperware container on his desk filled with blueberries, and then proceeds to present one to Cato across the desk clump.

"Want a berry, Cato?"

Cato, who is currently on the phone with a client, mocks Peeta's question down to the inflection. Nevertheless, he nods and snatches the berry from Peeta's outstretched palm. The blonde salesman sitting across from his aggressive counterpart looks up from under his shaggy hair and grins at the camera.

This isn't the first instance in which Peeta has offered Cato a berry. The cameras have a roll of footage just like this exchange happening every day for the past few weeks.

* * *

" _In this college psych class I took we learned about Pavlov's dogs, who were trained to salivate at the sound of a bell by being fed whenever the bell rang. So, over the past few weeks, since work has been slow as usual, I've been conducting my own experiment," Peeta clarifies in private. He cranes his head to look over his shoulder, where Cato sits back, legs spread wide and jugular exposed as if to suggest his domination, and aggressively makes a sale._

 _He holds up a container of blueberries and shrugs, "It just so happens that Cato likes berries and sits directly across from me."_

* * *

Rebooting his computer for the third time that afternoon, Peeta has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out in excitement when Cato sighs and reaches out for a berry without any prompting from him.

"What are you doing?" Peeta asks, playing dumb while calling attention to Cato's hand.

Stunned and confused, Cato draws his palm back to his chest as if he has just been zapped by some invisible shock.

"I…uh…I don't know." Smacking his lips together, Cato appears to be salivating when the camera closes in on his befuddled face. "My mouth tastes so bad…"

When looked to for a comment, Peeta shrugs at the camera like a coyly, impressed with himself beyond the need for words.

* * *

Haymitch is in the middle of answering a Buzzfeed quiz titled "Can You Outsmart a Forcefield?" when Katniss knocks on his office door and tells him that President Snow is on line one.

Hastily closing out of the window without receiving his results, Haymitch groans before he begrudgingly takes the call.

"And to what do I owe this esteemed pleasure, Sir?" Haymitch asks after he's exchanged pleasantries with his creepy boss. Although his voice is calm and leveled, the camera pans in on Haymitch's hands as they nervously tap on the desktop.

"I'm going to cut right to the chase, Haymitch."

The regional manager of the District Twelve branch sighs heavily.

"Look, Snow, I know what this is about."

"You do?" Snow inquires, sounding somewhat taken aback.

"Yes, and I don't think it can go unsaid any longer. My tryst with Alma was brief and beautiful, and I feel awful for just sending an arrow through her heart and killing our relationship. But I know, deep down, that there was nothing I could do to help make matters any easier."

"No, Haymitch," Snow interrupts, his low, ominous voice sounding annoyed with and just plain uncaring of the intimate details surrounding Haymitch's recent break-up with the Vice President of Panem over the phone's speaker. "There is a position opening up at Corporate Headquarters, and I am offering you an interview a week from today."

Haymitch looks up into the camera, absolutely stunned.

"Wow. And here I was thinking you hated me. Now you want me to work right alongside you. Wow. I wish I had prepared something to say."

"That is not necessary, Haymitch. I will be contacting all of the branch managers..."

"This is the time to show them everything," Haymitch spews at random, talking over his boss in an attempt to say something profound. "The ol' razzle dazzle."

Snow sighs after a long pause transpires on both ends of the call. "Yes, well, bring your first quarter stats and your recommendation for who would take over the District Twelve branch. I will see you next week."

He hangs up, and Haymitch reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulls out a large bottle of expensive champagne and a glass flute, undoubtedly kept on the regional manager's reserve for what he would deem a special occasion.

"Here's to my promotion," he declares before popping the cork in celebration and pouring himself a morning drink.

* * *

Four days later, Haymitch is prowling around the front of the office, barking demands for his workers to hurry up and get ready for the main event of the day: a hiking and camping trip in the Arrowhead Woods that he announced just two days prior during lunch.

"Alright, party train leaves in a half hour! Who's ready?"

Effie emerges from the break room at this moment, clad in the most stylish-looking camp attire of anyone else in the room. Her monogrammed camouflage backpack still has its tags on it.

"I brought extra bug spray for anyone who needs it. The mosquitos at Arrowhead are simply dreadful this time of year," Effie announces, earning the acknowledgement of some of the more forgetful members of the office.

Haymitch, grumbling a little to himself, awkwardly steps toward her.

"Oh, no. You're not going. Someone has to stay behind and answer calls and do the work today," Haymitch informs the HR rep tactlessly.

Effie simply blinks, looking both bewildered and bothered by the insinuation that she was never invited to the camping trip.

"But it's a group trip," she argues, which prompts Haymitch to fight back an onslaught of laughter at her.

"Not yours."

Effie is stewing. "You're not going to find this very funny if something goes wrong and Corporate tries to take it out on—"

"On who? You'd be filling out the report regardless of whether you're there or not, so I think Corporate's already taking it out on all of us by making you this District's HR rep. Loosen your puffy vest and have a drink, Princess."

Effie blinks into the camera in disbelief, still sputtering as Haymitch saunters away from her into his office.

* * *

" _My interview is on Monday, and I want today, my last day with these guys, to be a day that they remember fondly after I have passed on," Haymitch explains in the privacy of his own office, arguing for Effie's staying back. "If Effie's there, today will suck."_

* * *

Throwing her expensive sun hat on the ground in a huff, Effie storms over to the receptionist's desk and offers up her extra bug spray to Katniss.

"Oh, thanks, Effie. I actually know these woods pretty well, but I've been running low on this repellent salve my mom made for me, so this'll come in handy. Sorry you can't come with us..."

Effie simply flashes the young receptionist a saccharine smile and cuts her off with a perfectly manicured hand in her face.

"Darling, please spare me the boring details of your provincial life. Enjoy your day off, Katniss. You've earned it. Only the best for Haymitch's precious Victors…" she laments, turning on the heels of her newly purchased hiking boots.

Once Effie has retreated back to her post in the annex, Haymitch swoops in and volleys for Katniss' attention before she can get back to her work.

"Sweetheart, I have a very important job for you today."

"I thought my job was just to not die in the wilderness, like you said in your memo," Katniss retorts.

"Yeah, that, _but_ I would also like you to take notes. Find out about people's character – their strengths, their flaws, their humor, what their strategies are…just watch and write down everything everyone does all day, and then type it up in a way that is helpful. Basically, we're looking for the indescribable qualities of a winner. Like me."

Katniss' nose crinkles as she reviews this confusing request to herself.

"So you want me to figure out who the most arrogant person in the office is and write down their indefinable qualities?"

"Exactly. See you on the bus in twenty minutes, Sweetheart. Bring a notebook and a couple of pens. You have a very simple, but important task to do today."

Katniss tries to suppress a groan as she packs up her office supplies to go along with her camping supplies.

* * *

" _I have the most boring job at the office. So, why wouldn't I have the most boring job at the hiking trip?" Katniss sullenly remarks in a private interview._

* * *

 _In the first time since the crew has seen Delly Cartwright in a few weeks, she back to being full of sunshine and exuberance. There is, however, no mistaking the dark circles that have begun to form under her sky blue eyes._

" _Peeta and I have had some really good talks since the Mayor's party," Delly informs the cameras with a long, involuntary yawn. She follows it up with an optimistic smile and apologizes for the tiredness._

" _They've admittedly all gone pretty late into the night, but he's assured me that there's nothing going on between him and Katniss anymore, and I have to take his word for it."_

 _She pauses, and nervously wrings her hands together in her lap._

 _"Whenever my father would shine shoes in the little shop he used to own, he'd tell me, 'Delly, there's no rough patch you can't smooth over with a little perseverance'. I think Peeta and I can overcome this rough patch, and we can be stronger than ever."_

 _Delly brushes some of the hair out of her eyes and sits up straighter in her chair when the cameras start to pan over toward where Peeta wavers by reception, holding polite conversation with Katniss._

 _"And I'm going to start mending that rough patch by trying to clear the air with Katniss. I know I haven't given her much of a chance, given everything that happened before Peeta left Allentown, but she seems really sweet. Maybe we can even be friends. That's a step in the right direction, right?"_

* * *

"Katniss, hey!"

The sound of Delly's peppy voice causes the raven-haired receptionist to jump, he quarter she had in her hand now rolling on the floor under the vending machine. Katniss comically peers over her shoulder, somehow thinking that she must have misheard Delly, or that the blonde saleswoman has mistaken her for someone else in the otherwise empty break room.

"Sorry, do you need to grab something from the machine?" Katniss asks, stepping aside to make room for Delly by the snacks.

Shaking her head of curls, Delly smiles, as chipper as can be.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Delly says, taking a seat and raising her coffee mug to her pink lips.

Katniss' brow furrows, and in her usual blunt fashion, asks, "Why?"

Delly chuckles nervously, downplaying her co-worker's apparent confusion as she looks into the cameras. It's not that the two women do not get along, but they've had next to no interaction in the months since Delly's arrival.

A moment of belabored silence passes between them, and the cameras watch Delly worry her lower lip with her teeth for a moment before she sighs and decides to speak up.

"How are you? I know that at the Mayor's party...things got pretty crazy."

The receptionist visibly stiffens, no doubt remembering every horrific detail of Darius' breakdown which resulted in his firing from Panem Electric.

"Yeah."

"Peeta mentioned that you get panic attacks? I just wanted to make sure you were holding up alright."

Caught between the vending machine and Delly's body blocking the only exit, Katniss gives in to the other woman's friendly check-in.

"Sirens. They remind me of the car accident that killed my father. But I'm sure Peeta told you that, too," Katniss supplies quickly. Although Delly does look genuinely concerned for Katniss' mental health since the incident, Katniss' guard is detectable.

Never a big sharer to anyone other than Peeta or the occasional private interviews, it is clear that the thought of Delly knowing a weakness of hers has made Katniss bristle with annoyance.

On the other side of the break room, blinking back shocked tears, a very sympathetic Delly shakes her head.

"He told me you experienced attacks and nightmares, but never about where they came from," Delly says, voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine..."

"Don't, then. You shouldn't get bummed out on camping day," Katniss shuts down the pity party and promptly bows her head. She starts to reach for the quarter she had dropped earlier, giving Delly the perfect opportunity to debate with herself over the next talking point, the one she actually must have wanted to bring up all along.

"He also told me about you guys."

"What do you mean?" Katniss asks, trying to remain nonchalant as she punches in the numbers to get a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos to fall from the top shelf.

Delly's frown deepens just a little more as she reluctantly goes on to say, "That you guys kissed. Before New London. Which, I mean, is totally fine. It's just a kiss, right? You're not still...interested in him?"

Aggressively shoving a Dorito into her mouth, Katniss bobs her head almost immediately before Delly can finish answering the question.

"Oh, yeah."

Delly's light eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Really?"

Katniss' gray eyes go wide as she nearly chokes on said Dorito.

"No!" she says, sputtering with her mouth full. With each phrase that tumbles out of her mouth, she digs herself deeper into the hole she subconsciously dug for herself, "I was confused by your phrasing. No, there's _nothing_ going on there. You should go out with Peeta. I mean, _you are_ going out with Peeta. I'm not going out with Peeta. You have been dating him for six months, which is great, because you guys are awesome together."

Delly, giving Katniss the benefit of the doubt, laughs along with Katniss when the receptionist's strained, nervous laughter starts up.

"Okay, just wanted to check in and see if we were all on the same page, so that'd good," Delly says, her sunny demeanor giving Katniss the cue to relax the tension in her shoulders.

"Cool," Katniss says, rather lamely. And then, for good measure and for the sake of everyone in the room, herself included, she blurts out, "I'm not into Peeta...I'm sorry."

Delly's smile fractures, so quickly that it would almost be missed if it were not caught on camera.

"Sorry for what?"

Trapped yet again, Katniss pretends that she is receiving an important message from Haymitch on her phone and bolts from the room, leaving Delly flustered and alone.

* * *

 _Surprisingly, when reached to for a comment, Darius Lavins was willing to speak to the crew at a diner off-site of the office and the warehouse from which he was fired._

 _"Yeah, I met with Kat a few weeks ago, actually...you know, to apologize. She actually apologized for some things too. We agreed that we both made some bad choices during our relationship, and that it was time to let go of something that was never going to work at the end of the day," Darius explains, staring into his mug of black coffee._

 _He rubs a ghostly white hand down his freckly face, but overall, he finally appears to be at peace with the verdict of his ended relationship with Katniss Everdeen._

 _"I asked her if she was gonna start dating Mellark now, and she immediately made the lame excuse that he had a girlfriend._ _She told me she wasn't even going to_ try _to go out with him, can you believe that? After everything..._ _I couldn't sit back and let her just, I dunno...give up, I guess. I mean, she claims that she broke off our wedding for a lot of reasons, but anyone paying attention could see it was for him._ "

 _Darius takes a long, lazy sip of his coffee and stares contemplatively out the diner window._

 _"I don't get her." Laughing a little to himself, he scratches the top of his messy head of hair and confesses, "I don't think I ever did. Not like he does, at least."_

* * *

When the cameras find their way to the accountants' desk clump, Caesar is hard at work...not at accounting, but at a wilderness simulation game. He audibly comments on the happenings of the game and his live reactions to them, which causes both Clove and Beetee to glower at him as they attempt to get some actual work done before the trip.

Peering up from under his bushy green eyebrows at the camera, Caesar blushes a bit.

"I must confess, I am not an outdoors person," Caesar candidly tells the crew as his avatar slashes through the vines of what appears to be a jungle, something far off from the Allentown woods. "But this game is teaching me everything I need to know about the wilderness! For example, this tool I have just acquired is a spile."

The camera comes around to look at the screen from over Caesar's shoulder to watch an animated metal spout spin around in a bright red box filled with tools Caesar has acquired over the course of the game. Clove rolls her eyes and looks at the camera with scorn for entertaining the loony man.

"It took me about forty minutes to figure out that it was to collect water from the trees, but I caught it just in time before my player could die of dehydration!" No longer able to contain his excitement, he leans across his desk and shouts at Clove, as if they were at a sporting event, "Who's ready for some caaaaaamping!?"

Clove pops an aspirin and offers one to Beetee as Caesar cheers himself on.

* * *

 _"Of course I'm excited for this trip. Anything to get out of work for a day," Johanna reveals in a private interview. "Am I concerned about dying in the wilderness with this group of people, though? I don't know, Haymitch assures me that we're all safe, but I'm not so sure I believe that."_

 _She smirks, eyeing the camera as if to challenge the crew. "What about you guys? Would you feel 'totally safe' alone with that man?"_

* * *

After leading the group in a sing-a-long to the radio hit classic _Hanging Tree_ , which consists of Caesar taking it upon himself to be the loudest and most off-pitch one of the bunch, Haymitch scurries to the front of the bus for an important announcement.

"Today is not just a fun day sitting around the campfire and holding hands," Haymitch declares.

Cinna, sunglasses still on, rolls his head back in his seat.

"Mother of God," he grumbles. Beside him, Wiress giggles.

" _Today,_ Cinna," Haymitch continues, like a teacher attempting to scold the coolest kid in the school to appear in control to the rest of the classroom, "is a day filled with mandatory fun activities. Fun-tivities!"

This earns only one whoop, rather than the many he must have anticipated, from the back of the bus.

"Yes, fun-tivities! I _knew_ there had to be more to this day than some stupid hike!" Cato cheers. Looking devotedly into his boss' eyes, he tacks on, "I hope there will be parables about playing the game we call sales."

Haymitch nervously looks at the camera and ducks his head as he wanders back to his seat.

"Okay, your enthusiasm is making everyone uncomfortable. Knock it off."

Before he sits back down, Haymitch scolds Katniss when he learns that she didn't write down anyone's reactions to his "fun-tivities" initiative. He tells her to pretend she's writing musicals, something she's 'interested in', and get back to work. Katniss looks at the camera, and gnaws on the cap of her pen in frustration.

* * *

 _At the top of Arrowhead Mountain, Haymitch proudly beams into one of the cameras. He also comically squints due to his choice to stand directly in line with the sun's rays for this shot._

" _I think today will really determine the leaders from the followers. Today is the chance for people to get everyone else to like them. It's almost like a television show…for me at least. Even brought some booze for the occasion. Katniss, are you getting all of this down? Everything I'm saying?"_

" _Yes, Haymitch."_

 _The camera pans out to reveal Katniss, standing several feet behind Haymitch and furiously writing things down on a notepad. While he cheekily grins and takes a swig from his flask, Katniss holds up the notepad to reveal that "everything" is merely a bunch of scribbles._

* * *

Once everyone trudges up to the camp site – many of them sweating and out of breath – Haymitch tells everyone to get comfortable. Madge puts out a pillow and begins to read a tabloid magazine on the nearest stump. Gale checks his phone for cell service. Johanna throws her bag carelessly behind her, nearly knocking Beetee back down the hill, before she starts pitching her tent. Finnick makes a big show of how hot he is and decides to rid himself of his shirt. Cato snarls at him when he catches Clove's visible discomfort at the nudity that even she can't seem to tear her gaze away from. After claiming a space for their tent, Delly and Peeta set up a small blanket to put their picnic lunch on, which Katniss eyes with utter detestation. Cinna creeps up and puts an assuring hand on Katniss' shoulder before he wanders off to seek out and give out shade under a tree.

Once everyone is comfortable, Haymitch immediately tells them to get up and stand in a circle around him.

"Let the games begin! Breathe it all in, folks, because this is sacred ground. Today, we stand on the famous indigenous camp ground of hundreds of warrior tribes."

Peeta shakes his head at the cameras, informing them that this is a purely hyperbolic and very untrue statement that the boss just happened to make up.

"And so it was decreed: One day. Fourteen strangers who work together. The bravest males and females of the District competing in the ultimate fight to the death until there is one survivor."

"What?" Caesar shouts loudly from the back, just as confused as everyone else and the only one brave enough to voice it.

Haymitch shakes his head, conveying that his message was obviously unable to get through to everyone.

"It's just words. Just inspirational words. Read them in a novel or something, it's not important," he tells Caesar. Then, to the cameras: "Thankfully, he's not a contender."

"Contender for what, Haymitch?" Cato asks boisterously, having been hanging on to every word of Haymitch's 'inspirational' speech. The manager rolls his eyes.

"The itinerary for the day is as follows: When the clock strikes noon, we'll meet at this big tree over here and begin. The forest has been divided up into twelve wedges, each wedge containing a different obstacle and you must overcome in the form of a challenge. At midnight, the final challenge will determine the winner with the most points…"

"So, it's a clock, then," Wiress chirps from the middle of the huddle. The cameras immediately train themselves on her. When several heads turn to look at the older woman in befuddlement, she clarifies, "Twelve challenges for twelve hours. It's clockwork. Tick, tock!"

Wiress giggles to herself and starts reciting the nursery rhyme 'Hickory Dickory Dock', but Haymitch isn't laughing.

"Dammit, Wiress! Way to give away the whole thing, you old Nut Job! Four days of work ruined because you can't keep your damn trap shut. Whatever, let's just get on with it, then."

Finnick unsurprisingly speaks up in favor of Haymitch's elaborate clock plan, cheering the boss on so that he may continue on his quest to knock Cato out of his coveted Number Three spot.

"Alright! God Bless America!"

Haymitch's lips quirk in the slightest trace of a smile.

"Katniss, make note that Finnick is patriotic."

* * *

" _I'm trying to learn a number of things from these challenges. For starters, maybe I can come up with an actual fighter," Haymitch explains. "Obviously, I'm looking to the sales gang first and foremost. Wiress is a basketcase, so she's pretty much already out of the running. Cinna is…well, I'm honestly considering Cinna because he scares me so much. There's Peeta Mellark. Smart, handsome, funny…sound like anyone else you know?"_

 _As Haymitch pats himself on the back, the camera pulls in to watch Peeta mockingly stretch his arms and legs out in order to get Delly to laugh. Her blonde curls shaking on her pale shoulders, Delly slaps Peeta's toned shoulder and races him down the hill._

" _But the con is that he's not really a hard worker. I could spend all day on a project he gets done in a half hour. Work ethic issues."_

* * *

Within the first few hours of the day, it becomes evident that Haymitch is going to have a difficult time picking a successor from his District Twelve lot.

The first game, called Lightening Speed, forces the group to untie themselves from a human knot, and then get into height order lining up behind the big tree that has been serving as their marker. This merely results in Beetee issuing a pragmatic solution to the human mess, Finnick agreeing with him, Johanna openly protesting and leading half of the group out of the knot in the other direction, Cato disagreeing with Johanna and pulling his own troops out of the knot in a completely different direction, and Peeta, Delly, and several other slackers just meandering off.

In the end, the challenge produces four random circles instead of a line.

* * *

" _There's Cato. The obvious choice, given he's the most qualified for the position of regional manager and wants it more than anyone I know," Haymitch continues to remain optimistic, despite the first challenge's pitfalls. "Downside is that he's a complete moron."_

* * *

The second challenge, called Blood Rain, requires Katniss to haul ten shopping bags filled with wine coolers up the hill and set up an elaborate speaker system. Arranged in a circle, the first person in the circle, which Cato unsurprisingly volunteers for, must drink until a line of the song "Bad Blood" is finished, and the waterfall pattern must continue until the song is over. Clove refuses to participate, and Katniss is shut down when she offers to take her place. The game goes surprisingly well until Wiress unfortunately gets stuck with the rap section of the song, which Haymitch specifies is longer than a line. She vomits all over Beetee and Johanna, and is drunker than ever before.

Cato makes it a point to finish off sixteen wine coolers just to show that he can. The cameras also catch him vomiting in some bushes several minutes after the challenge.

* * *

" _Finnick Odair is another top contender. He's a Yale graduate, charming, good with the ladies, very on top of his game. I trust him…" Haymitch pauses and mulls this over. Katniss diligently scribes in the background. "Except I don't_ really _trust him."_

 _Katniss mutters something disdainful to herself, spins her pen around, and crosses everything said about Finnick Odair out._

* * *

For the third hour, an obstacle course much like _Muttspringen_ from the Office Olympic Games is set up. Everyone is randomly paired up, one partner is blindfolded, and the other must guide them and the egg that is balanced on their spoon through the course. Chaos ensues, naturally.

Finnick tries with all his might to keep up his cool composure, but it is wavering as Madge, his partner, second guesses his every command. So far, his charm has gotten him through every game, just as it gets him through a regular day at the office. But this challenge is proving to be particularly challenging, even for this strategy.

"I'm gonna trip over that giant tree branch! I know it! You're hot, but trying to trick me! Hot guys are always playing games."

"Stop trying to trick my girl, Odair," Gale, who is blindfolded and currently being ordered to "Mush" by Cato, shouts in the general area he thinks Finnick and his girlfriend may be. He ends up shouting in Cato's face, which eggs the red-faced brute on even more to get Gale to hurry along.

"Madge, you're nowhere near the branch, I promise you," Finnick insists, quickly becoming undone with impatience. The cameras pan to the giant branch in question, about twenty yards behind Madge in the opposite direction. "Just ten more paces, and we're at the finish line."

Madge doesn't believe him, and she whips the blindfold off in search of the branch. They are promptly disqualified. Finnick, muscles in his jaw visibly tensing, simply smiles at his partner and pops a sugar cube into his mouth to keep from screaming at her.

Meanwhile, Gale instantly loses his own patience with Cato. He rips off his blindfold, disqualifying them as well, and squares off with the blonde man.

"Yell at me like a dog again, and I will set fire to your food supply in the middle of the night," Gale threatens. Cato gulps audibly.

Wiress, still quite drunk, giggles to herself and keeps pandering the nursery rhyme until she runs into a tree and smashes the egg. Standing behind her and doing absolutely nothing, Cinna thanks Wiress for her time and puts his sunglasses back on.

Delly is jokingly misled by her partner, Peeta, and ends up with two feet submerged in a small crick. She whips off her blindfold and playfully lobs the egg at her boyfriend. The two are all laughs, and they kick up dirt as they pass by Katniss and her notepad like she is invisible.

Sae, who was a shockingly cooperative partner to Beetee, comes out triumphant. Haymitch grumbles something about kissing Effie Trinket before letting Sae manage this office, and then he stomps off to the next wedge of the clock-shaped arena.

* * *

" _Nothing like a day out in the woods. The nature, the fresh air, and the scrupulous note-taking," Katniss sarcastically says in an aside._

 _When Cressida asks who is ahead in the race, she clarifies, "At this point, there's an even tie with Peeta at ten points, Cato with a gold star, and Finnick with a thumbs up…"_

 _Haymitch yells at her for missing things, and she shakes out her tired, cramped hand before getting back to work._

* * *

The next game, a glorified version of Simon Says that Haymitch calls "Jabberjays", forces contestants to keep straight faces while repeating ridiculous phrases back to him. Given that everyone is drunk and exhausted at this point, no one takes the game seriously.

"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers," Haymitch growls for what he claims is the hundredth time when in reality it's only the third.

"Peter Pepper?" Clove asks, pretending that she couldn't hear her boss correctly. She managed to be talked into having just one wine cooler by Cato and Johanna, and it has had a major effect on her small, susceptible frame. Madge, standing on the stump beside her, giggles.

"Sorry, Haymitch, it's just so hard to hear you with all the wind in the trees!"

"What?" Sae legitimately hollers next to Madge. "The Barbie girl is cheating, Boss!"

"Dammit, guys, just repeat what I'm saying. It's not that hard! This is supposed to distinguish good listeners, and show initiative. It's very important that someone wins this challenge!" Haymitch interjects.

"Why? What do we win?" Gale asks.

"I don't know," Haymitch says, exasperated and realizing that he's probably said too much. This doesn't stop him from going on, however. "A year's worth of my salary. A pre-paid rental car. The glory of being a victor."

"Can't we just get the first two things instead?" Caesar inquires.

"No, you idiots. Just…repeat after me, okay? It's _Peter Piper picked…"_ Haymitch starts.

"A pipe of peckled pippers!" Johanna leers, sending the rest of the group up into hysterics.

"Who even is Peter Piper, anyway?" Delly asks Peeta. "We don't ever get enough of his story. How did he come to pick pickled peppers for a living? Does he even like being a pickle picker?"

"Honestly, Dell, this is one we're going to have to take up with Mother Goose. Or Wiress, since she has an impressive knack for nursery rhymes."

The cameras pan over to Wiress, who's still chanting, "Hickory Dickory Dock, the mouse went up the clock…" to herself with glee.

"PEOPLE, LISTEN! We need a winner," Haymitch whines. "Just one. That's all I ask."

"Why do you want that so bad?" Beetee pipes up. "We're having enough fun just messing around. You wrote these rules, so can't the rules just be re-written?"

"No, no they can't Beetee!"

"Why not?"

"Because the winner gets my job, okay?" Haymitch finally bursts, quelling the rowdy bunch before him. Cato nearly falls off his tree stump in shock.

"You're…leaving?" he asks, as if he's been stabbed. Haymitch sighs dramatically.

"I didn't want to have to tell you this way – there's a job I'm interviewing for at Corporate. It's a smaller candidate pool than usual, most likely…and I'm the most qualified, so I'll probably get it."

An uncomfortable silence fills the forest. A tree could fall and everyone would be around to hear it.

And suddenly, in a shocking turn of events, Cinna loudly recites the silly rhyme back to Haymitch. He stands tall at attention, and over the rims of his sunglasses, the cameras catch a wild look in his eyes.

* * *

" _I hate working here, but if I have to keep working for anyone in these woods, it may as well be me," Cinna clarifies his behavior for the cameras in a private interview by the big tree. Although his expression is unchanged from its usual deadpan state, the hungry look in his eyes has not disappeared, telling the camera crew he means every word he says._

* * *

 _Behind Beetee, Finnick and Cato are still shouting over each other, the popping 'p' sound of the Peter Piper line reverberating off of the forest canopy. The game appears to have concluded a while ago for everyone else._

" _If the new position goes to either of these gentlemen I will leave this job permanently," he threatens. Laughing a little to himself, he adds, "I don't know what these fools will miss more, me or my mind."_

* * *

The crew finds Cato's figure stalking through the bushes across from the campsite almost immediately, despite his attempt to be hidden from plain view. They don't, however, manage to see that Clove is with him until they come closer.

"Pookie, I'm sure you know that my winning the position is vital for us both to go home victorious," Cato explains, keeping his voice low and his gaze focused on the horizon ahead. Standing shoulder to shoulder – or shoulder to ear, given the immense height difference between them – Clove nods intently.

"Oh, I know, Sugar Bear. Which is why I went into Haymitch's knapsack and found the draft for the rest of the challenges," Clove tells him, a wicked smile tugging at her taught lips. Without so much as a blink Cato's way, she puts a neatly folded piece of paper into his hands.

The cameras zoom in to a close up on Cato as he scans the paper quickly and grins.

"Other than the last challenge, which I can't really make out, it's all there. Everything you need to give you what you finally deserve."

"It's the perfect sabotage."

"It is indeed," she remarks. When Cato, overcome with joy, grabs her, spins her close to him, and tries to kiss her, however, she smacks him and scurries out of the bushes. Cato's eyes hungrily follow her as she goes.

* * *

Across the campsite, the cameras do some more spying on another couple. Although it is difficult to hear them over the running water of the crick, the sound on the camera balances out in just enough time to catch the tail end of Peeta's phone conversation.

"Great. Yeah, I'll see you next week. And here is Delly Cartwright," Peeta says warmly, passing his cell phone over to his bubbly girlfriend.

"Hi, President Snow. Yes, I would like to be considered for the position at Corporate in well—I mean as well."

Peeta catches her slip up just as Delly turns bright red.

"In well? How can a job be in well…wait if this job is in a well, I don't want it," Peeta muses. He boings one of Delly's blonde curls.

Delly rolls her eyes and continually gestures for her boyfriend to pipe down while she wraps up her end of the conversation with the President of Panem, successfully securing the both of them interviews for the position Haymitch claimed to have allegedly in the bag.

* * *

At this stage of the competition, everyone has upped their game in order to get the chance to take over as regional manager. Finnick continues to blind the female contestants into letting him win challenges or by forming alliances with him, which gives him an advantage over many of his competitors.

Cinna fights with enough ferocity to scare people away from wanting to play any of the games. During a game called "Man – Gun – Bear", which resembles a human version of the hand game "Rock – Paper – Scissors", his growling that goes along with his bear causes Peeta to claim that he saw his life flash before his eyes in Cinna's expression.

Cato's newfound knowledge proves to be a double-edged sword for him later in the following events of the competition. Although he knows the ins and outs of the challenges, Cato could not have anticipated just how badly he would perform each of them.

The current challenge, which requires an exhibition of contestants' survival skills in order to acquire food in a simulated setting in which they are stranded in the woods, reveals the salesman's anger as it mounts at the knot tying station of the challenge. Instead of focusing on his own work, he continually looks over to Finnick, who knots perfectly with ease and a smug expression sent Cato's way.

* * *

" _How did I get so good at knot tying? Simple. My father had a sailboat growing up, this beautiful creature we called The Trident, and that provided me with plenty of opportunities to tie some of the toughest knots while I learned how to scale the seas," Finnick explains triumphantly._

 _Cressida has to clarify, however, that the question was not, 'How did you get so good at knot tying?', but rather, 'How did you get so good at not trying?' Finnick looks slightly embarrassed before shrugging it off with his usual dismissal._

" _Oh…that. I feel like the same answer would probably suffice. I haven't dabbled in anything as simple as money in years. No one in Twelve is bragging about their sailboats, haha—I suppose I am susceptible to being a little classier than the folks here."_

 _A facile status player, Finnick changes his tune and shrugs off the smug grin in the blink of an eye and suddenly plays himself off as humble._

 _"But I am okay if I lose every single contest today. I see these contests as a chance to demonstrate to the people of this office what a good sport I can be. It's not_ my _hubris we have to worry about."_

* * *

Back at the challenge, Cato's apparent hubris has caused him to incorrectly assemble his tent, despite all of Clove's side coaching.

"Cato!" Clove snarls when the bounty of supplies he's been given comes crumpling down. The cameras can detect how he has gone from simmering to absolutely maddened in a matter of seconds, but Clove is just a second too late to catch up.

"Dammit, Clove! I can't focus with you breathing down my neck like that! Now let me figure out which plants are edible in piece!"

Everyone falls silent, in shock. Katniss, who had been spying on the two of them kissing at the Mayor's party last month, immediately looks into the camera with her jaw hanging open. Clove turns beet red before turning on her heels in the soil and stomping off. Finnick looks like he's fighting back laughter, but plays it off as a cough into his sleeve.

Cato, regretting how his temper got the best of him, immediately goes to follow her.

"Clove, wait…stay with me…" However, remembering the nature of their hushed, secret relationship in the presence of his co-workers, Cato is forced to make the choice to stay behind while he watches his angry girlfriend slip through his fingers.

As the competition winds down, Haymitch checks everyone's final survival product. Gale stands proudly by what appears to be a very impressive snare.

* * *

" _Katniss isn't the only hunter in the office," Gale reveals in a private interview. His chest puffs out with pride, "That thing could catch a rabbit in under ten minutes."_

 _A thought finally occurs to him at the thought of the snare's success rate, and he frowns. "You'd think I'd be able to apply some of this skill to being a salesman…"_

* * *

" _Survival of the fittest, I get what ol' Boss Man is trying to do here," Sae says in a private interview she insisted for herself. "I know a thing or two about that."_

 _When asked for clarification, she winks and flashes a toothless smile at the camera._

" _I was supposed to be born a twin, you see. But when the doctors did an ultrasound on my mother, they discovered that I had absorbed the other fetus. It's what's made me so durable over the years. I should have died years ago, when I got sold on the black market and thrown into the Siene in Paris when I was a young girl. Swam my way out of that bag, changed my name, and now I_ run _the black market."_

* * *

"The hell is this, Hawthorne? Nice try, but it takes a little more than being the office hunk and making a catapult to be the regional manager in Allentown," Haymitch sneers, obviously having never seen a snare before. Gale merely looks at the cameras in agitation.

Haymitch makes his way over to Cinna's creation, which is essentially just a cape he's fashioned out of a tarp.

"What on Earth…how do you plan to survive in the wilderness with that, Cinna?"

"By doing what you always tell us to do and staying alive," Cinna says, much too perkily to be normal. Haymitch, however, takes this ego-petting in stride and tells Katniss to award Cinna a touchdown. As soon as he walks by, Cinna's big, fake smile resets into his usual grimace.

* * *

" _You know, I knew going into this that finding a replacement would be difficult, but I didn't realize that it would be impossible," Haymitch laments in private as he takes a giant swig from his flask. "No one has shown any potential all day. Cato's an ass, Finnick cheated his way to the top, Peeta isn't trying, and Cinna's clearly having a stroke."_

 _He smiles as he screws his cap back onto the flask._

" _However, I think this last challenge may be able to do the trick."_

* * *

Once everyone is gathered at the oak tree for the final challenge in the clock, Haymitch begins his biggest speech yet.

"What does a great manager need most of all? Courage. Brass balls. Cajónes."

"How so?" Cinna answers the rhetorical question sarcastically, his impulses disagreeing with the charade he's been playing with the current manager all day. Haymitch shoots him a look, which prompts Cinna to zap back into mock-enthusiasm.

"I mean, sure thing! That sounds smart, Haymitch. I'm here to help you in any way that I can –" The act becomes all too much for the salesman, and he sighs with defeat. "I can't do this anymore. I don't see the point in this."

In true Cinna fashion, he informs the group that he is going to sleep in style, that is on the bus.

"Your loss, Cinna! Meanwhile, the rest of us will be having a blast defeating fear and igniting the flames of hope, which as we know is much stronger than fear!" Haymitch calls down the hill at Cinna's retreating form. "And how, you may ask? By walking through the very thing that runs our company!"

"Idiots?" Johanna ventures, jabbing a thumb in the direction of Caesar, who is chattering with Delly about how his forest green-colored vest compliments her eyes.

"No…no, that's not…no. I mean, literally the thing that runs our company: COAL!"

As he makes this announcement, the giant pile of kindling and coal leading to the giant tree that everyone thought was for a bonfire is lit by two warehouse workers in their white suits.

Peeta, who has been watching everything with utter dismay, flashes his trademark look to the cameras, this time with a twang of shock.

"Who among you has the guts to replace me? Let him walk across these coals."

Not surprisingly, no one is jumping at the bait of this erroneous request. Everyone merely looks at the last challenge with terror.

"C'mon, guys! Man up here!" Haymitch pleads. "Peeta?"

Peeta laughs out loud before answering, "Hard no, Boss. I don't want my feet to get burned. Besides, I have no chance of winning this thing."

"You do not have what it takes to be a regional manager," Haymitch declares, pointing an incriminating finger Peeta's way.

"That's harsh," Peeta remarks to no one in particular.

"Peeta's strong, though," Delly speaks up on behalf of her boyfriend, who is too self-deprecating to admit he would actually be quite a good manager. "He has tons of burn scars from the ovens. And I happen to know for a fact that he can lift a hundred pound sack of flour at the bakery. I've seen him do it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Curly Q, but I'm not going to manage anyone with a sack of flour. Unless the office turns into a giant cake overnight," Peeta says, blushing with eyes downcast. When he looks up, he nervously meets Haymitch's gaze. "I was, uh, actually referring to the open position down at Corporate. I'm going to interview with President Snow on Thursday."

A beat of silence passes before Haymitch bursts out laughing.

"That's a good one, Mellark. You had me fooled for a second, there."

"He's not joking, Haymitch. I'm also going in for the interview in well– _as well_ –gosh, I keep doing that," Delly informs him, coming to Peeta's side and taking his hand. The cameras, as to be expected, cut to Katniss for a reaction, but she remains listless.

Haymitch visibly swallows this betrayal.

"Oh…so, you really are, then?" Haymitch asks, after another moment of silence drags on. Peeta nods. "Would you…would you want to train together, then? Study up as a team?"

"Yeah, uh, it's probably for the best if I train alone for this one, Haymitch…no hard feelings, but you understand that, right?" Peeta replies, kicking at the soil beneath his feet with the toe of his boot.

"I can't let you do this," Haymitch says, voice wavering just above a whisper.

Peeta shrugs. "You can't stop me."

Haymitch deducts fifty points from Peeta for the sake of smiting him while he still can.

"Are you going to do it?" Caesar grills Clove in a not-so-discreet stage whisper as he looks on at the coals. Clove vehemently shakes her head.

"And make a fool out of myself? I don't think so. It's unsafe," Clove spits back. Narrowing her beady eyes across the coal walk at Cato, she tacks on, "I can think of some people who won't listen to that glaringly obvious fact, however."

"If it grants me the honor I would be able to bring to this District as Regional Manager, I would most certainly walk through fire," Cato announces, his statement directed at both Clove and Haymitch. Turning to the manager who stands at his side, Cato stares intensely at Haymitch and says, in an attempt to perhaps hypnotize Haymitch, "That's the kind of dedication you want in a leader."

"Shut up. That's…you're pathetic. Look, if no one is going to walk through the coals, we have to give the position to Mr. Outside Hire."

"Or Missus Outside Hire," Madge interjects.

Haymitch eyes her with laughter burning on his lips as he sarcastically humors her by saying, "Yeah, okay. So, any volunteers?"

Katniss, who has been strangely eyeing the coals, looks up at the cameras that watch her with a nervous, but excited smile.

"You know what, I'm gonna do it," she says confidently. "And I fully expect to burn, but that's the spirit, right?"

Her hand shoots up. "Haymitch, I volunteer – "

Haymitch quickly silences her with a raised hand of his own. "No, Sweetheart. You need to keep score."

"But I want to try…"

"No, Katniss. I need someone else, anyone else!"

"If you're going to ask people to do it, you should do it yourself," Finnick challenges. And because this rebellious statement came from the mouth of Finnick Odair, at least four or five female voices go up in agreement with him.

Haymitch, never one to back down from a challenge while drunk, eyes Finnick with scorn as he bravely approaches the coals. His bare foot dangles over the crackling, burning trail for about ten seconds before he spits in the direction of the challenge. His saliva sizzles and sends up a pathetic puff of smoke once it makes contact with the coals.

"This is bull. Waste of seventy-five bucks," he grumbles. "You know, there's really no correlation between management and a fire walk. Okay, okay, new challenge! See that big branch, way up in this tree?"

The cameras follow where Haymitch's finger points, to a large branch about twenty five feet above the ground.

"Whoever can climb up to that branch has the stamina, the courage – what it takes to be the victor of _this_ branch," he declares, looking pretty impressed with himself for improvising a new challenge on the spot like this.

"You're kidding. That's even harder than the hell-scape you have for us down here," Gale speaks up on behalf of the flabbergasted group.

"Well, life's a climb, Lumberjack Boy," Haymitch retorts.

"Like Miley Cyrus says," Madge pipes up, ignoring the fact that she's backing up Haymitch and not sticking up for her boyfriend in her quick attempt to sneak a pop culture reference and her two cents into the discussion.

"Haymitch, please, let me try," Katniss begs. "I'm actually a pretty decent climber…"

"Jesus, Everdeen! You really are as stubborn as they come. I need you to stay here and write down that everyone's a coward."

"Why don't you climb it then, since we're all too cowardly for your taste?" Johanna leers at her boss.

Haymitch shakes his head, obvious fear in his eyes. "No…I don't do heights."

"Figures," Beetee grumbles under his breath.

All eyes are on Cato when he suddenly cries out, an intense-sounding battle cry that vaguely resembles something out of _Game of Thrones._ He rips off his thermal jacket, and then his t-shirt, shoes, and pants, despite everyone's protests, until he is stripped down to his underwear at the base of the tree trunk.

"No. I will do this, Haymitch. I will climb this tree and earn this job," he announces. The group erupts in hysteria, telling him that he is crazy and will undoubtedly hurt himself. Clove simply rolls her eyes and turns away from the scene.

Cato ignores all of the pleas and attempts to climb the tree anyway. It becomes evident that he has both no experience with climbing and that his height and weight put him at a significant disadvantage for the task. He loses his footing, and rather than letting defeat take him down without a fight, Cato wraps his arms and legs around the tree, holding on for dear life.

Gravity has other plans, however, and Cato's body slides the rough bark of the tree. He hollers the whole way down until he collapses in a pile of limbs directly on his butt in the soil below. The fall is a hard one, and many people gasp or let out "oohs" like spectators watching a sporting event.

Haymitch calls everything off, demands Cato put his clothes back on and stop humiliating himself, and redirects everyone back to the campfire for a "barely-deserved" s'mores making session with the extra coal. Cato is left battered, bruised, and groaning on the forest floor, but not before Clove throws all of his clothes at him.

* * *

Gale, Finnick, and Beetee set up a fire with the remaining coal that did not go to waste on the failed coalwalk. Haymitch looks on, still sizing people up for potential.

While Johanna is in the middle of a terrifying ghost story and everyone else is around the huddle with one half of the camera crew watching, Cressida and her cameraman Pollux have stayed back at the tree trunk with Katniss.

She stares intently at her target, her determined gray eyes honing in on the branch above. Katniss smiles at the camera, takes a deep breath, and with a leap of faith, she finds her footing. Quickly, nimbly, she makes it to the top of the tree with ease. When she perches herself on the branch, she releases the breath she has been holding and is beaming with accomplishment. Euphoric laughter pours from her lips as the flames from the coals below lick the edge of the camera's frame. She glows like one of the coals as she throws her head back and screams triumphantly into the brisk nighttime air.

In this moment, she is far more than just the pretty girl who sits behind the desk at the office. The receptionist is as radiant as the sun.

Without waiting for the cameras to follow, she swiftly makes her way back down to the ground (far more gracefully than Cato had earlier that night, despite the sounds of her clothes catching on bark here and there) and runs at full speed toward the campfire at the other end of the campsite.

Johanna's scary story is cut off at the climax when Katniss comes bursting into the circle.

"Hey! I want to say something," she announces. Without waiting for permission, Katniss goes on. "I've been trying to get better at saying things, lately. I climbed the tree! Just now, I did it. Haymitch, you couldn't even do that – maybe I should be your boss."

All eyes are on Haymitch, who laughs half-heartedly at Katniss' dig at him.

The girl, now on a roll with her honest punches, keeps swinging.

"None of you came to my recital," she states, moving on from Haymitch to the rest of the circle around the bonfire. "I invited all of you…and none of you showed up. That really sucked. It's like some of you act like I don't exist."

A wave of guilt is visibly passed around the circle, skipping over some of the more hard-to-reach members of the office, before it lands on a certain blonde salesman.

Slowly, with all the courage she can muster in this moment of adrenaline and confidence, Katniss turns and meets his gaze.

"Your favorite color is orange, but muted and soft. Like the sunset. You're a painter. You're a baker. You sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. You always double knot your shoelaces. You're kind, and generous, and people said you loved…I didn't realize how _important_ all of that information was or how much it all meant for me to _know_ all of that until you left for New London – and then I called off my wedding, and now we're not even friends. And things are just weird between us now. You're not even you around me. But I miss you. We were friends, and allies before…and now I keep trying to figure that list of what we are out but I keep coming up short. I shouldn't have been with Darius, and there were a million reasons to cancel my wedding…but the truth is, none of it mattered until I met you."

The cameras cut to Peeta, who watches her, unblinking, unmoving. He merely absorbs everything that is being said to him. And for once in his life, he takes it completely seriously.

Katniss staggers for a moment at Peeta's silence, but she wills herself to go on.

"And now, you're with someone else…and that's fine."

Delly delivers a bewildered and highly offended look to the cameras at this honest statement. But Katniss, still on a roll, isn't so concerned with offending anyone tonight.

"It's—whatever, that's not what I'm trying to say. I think there's a splinter in my butt right now…what I mean to say to you, Peeta—and everyone else in the circle, I guess—is that I miss having fun with you...Just you, actually. Nobody else."

For what feels like the millionth time that day, an eerie silence falls over the group. Only the sounds of Katniss' labored breaths and the crackling fire can be picked up by the microphones.

"Okay," the receptionist says after a long while, "I'm gonna go get all of these splinters out of my pants now."

Smiling to herself before she starts off, Katniss declares that it's been a good day.

"Katniss, that was amazing!" Haymitch calls after her as she disappears to the area by the crick. He shrugs and passes a look into the camera before addressing the rest of the shell-shocked group. "I'm still really looking for someone with sales experience, but damn, that girl is on fire!"

* * *

 _In the middle of the night, the crew wakes to the smell of meat being cooked and follows the billow of smoke to the source—a man-made fire. Greasy Sae is discovered cooking up some ribs._

 _The old woman cackles upon being found. Raising a finger to her lips, she tells the crew to remain mum._

" _Survival of the fittest. I'm cooking the small one. The little uptight accountant girl."_

 _Sae cackles when Cressida gasps and the cameras quickly pan to the campsite, where Clove still sleeps soundly under the stars in her sleeping bag._

" _I'm just messin'. This meat is all mine. Did kill that deer over there for it, though. Nothing like a midnight snack cooked au naturale," she says with another giggle._

 _The image of the deer carcass has to be blurred out for America's sake._

* * *

 **A/N: Hi! Hope everyone is hanging in there! This chapter follows probably my favorite episode of _The Office_ , so it was a lot of fun to put this together with the parallels to the arena from Catching Fire. Now, Katniss' true feelings are out there and someone may be getting promoted! Stay tuned! Only one more "episode" from Year Two! Please review and let me know of your thoughts/predictions!**

Till next time,  
ILoVeWicked


	11. Year Two: Rule Change

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both _The Hunger Games_ and _The Office (US)_ belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 2, Episode 6: Rule Change**

Several days later, the cameras return to check up on the office before the big interviews in New York. Things at the District Twelve Branch of Panem Electric seem to be restored to their normal state after the mayhem of the camping trip.

Until Peeta Mellark walks in. There is something markedly different about his appearance, and Caesar and Johanna spend a good while at Katniss' desk trying to figure it out. After several failed attempts at guessing, Delly literally has to cough the word, "Haircut" for anyone to understand.

Everyone pauses to take note, and even the cameras zoom in. Peeta's usual mop of blonde curls has been cut, gelled, and combed neatly atop his head, making him look, as Johanna bluntly puts it, "Like all of Panem would want to sleep with him."

"Yeah, I figured it was time for a change," Peeta says with a nonchalant shrug, trying to divert the attention away from him and the way Johanna happens to be tauntingly licking her lips.

"It's a nice change of pace from the homeless vibe you were giving off, babe," Delly says, coming around from behind the copier to kiss him, successfully shooing everyone away. "And I mean that lovingly."

"Peeta Mellark, such a handsome lad! Who knew?! Haha, I love it!" Caesar shouts loudly before clapping the salesman on the back.

* * *

" _After that little outburst at the campsite, Peeta was extremely nice about everything. He basically said he missed my friendship as well, and I would always mean a lot to him. I understand where he's coming from," Katniss explains in private when asked about the aftermath of her speech in the Arrowhead Woods last week._

" _For the record," she adds, pointing an incriminating finger into the camera as she stares her future audience down. "I don't regret saying any of those things. They needed to be said. It just took me two years to find the right words to say."_

* * *

"Hey, Peeta," Katniss says from behind her desk after the cat-calls from Johanna die down and Peeta is a nice shade of crimson red, "You look nice."

"Thanks, Everdeen," Peeta replies earnestly to her compliment, shooting her one of his trademark half-smiles before returning to his desk.

Delly eyes the entire exchange like a doe-eyed hawk. With the slightest look being tossed over her shoulder at the reception desk, she hurries up to her boyfriend and hugs him quickly. She then makes her way to her own desk. It isn't possessive, or too ostentatious. But to Katniss and everyone else watching, it speaks volumes.

Delly Cartwright does not have high hopes for this relationship if Peeta stays in Allentown.

* * *

" _The camping trip was a…setback," Delly admits, expression falling a bit when Cressida and Messalla ask her about how things are between her and Peeta following Katniss' confession in the woods. "More talks have certainly had to go down, but things are looking up again. I'm really hoping one of us is able to get this promotion…maybe take things to another level with the relationship, too. We're actually going into the city tonight instead of tomorrow…getting dinner, staying in a hotel, seeing the second act of a Broadway show when we sneak in at intermission. It'll be good for us to get away for a while."_

* * *

When the crew wanders into Haymitch's office, it is barely recognizable. The walls have been stripped of the man's ridiculous posters and neon bar signs, and the desk has been stripped of nearly all of Haymitch's strange knick-knacks and Victor Awards. Even the floor is clear of stray bottles for people to trip over.

To say Haymitch is confident about the open position he thinks he has been promised is an understatement.

Haymitch, grinning wildly into the camera as he tapes up another box of his belongings, summons Cato into his quarters. The muscled meathead, who the cameras find in the bathroom, wastes zero time before he is standing at attention before his boss...despite the fact that he is still in the middle of securing his belt and zipping up his trousers.

"What is it you need, Haymitch? A massage? A funny pub song? Are you not feeling well and need me to check WebMD for your symptoms?"

"No, calm down, Weirdo," Haymitch chides his Assistant to the Regional Manager gruffly. "I've got something that'll truly knock your socks off."

Cato scoffs at the commonly used metaphor, taking it as literally as he can.

"Impossible. I've inserted drawstrings in all of my socks." He looks into the camera, matter-of-factly explaining this new, unsurprisingly weird quirk as best he can to the crew. "Marvel tends to try to steal them in the night, because he gets cold..."

"Dammit, Cato, just listen! As you know, the time has come to choose the next regional manager of District Twelve," says Haymitch, a grin spreading so wide across his face it could be a grimace. He hands an envelope addressed to Cato Hadley over to the puzzled salesman.

Cato almost savagely tears the delivery open with his teeth before he exercises restraint and excitedly tears at the seal on the envelope, guessing its contents before he can read aloud, in Haymitch's sloppy cursive:

"'The odds are in your favor, Idiot. Congratulations. Don't screw the pooch.'"

For the first time in two years, the cameras capture footage of one of the most stony-faced, no-nonsense grown men in the office sobbing in the arms of his boss. Cato cannot stop thanking Haymitch, while Haymitch continues to demand Cato let him go and stop getting snot all over his second-best suit.

Haymitch downs a shot behind Cato's back when, despite his pleas, he gets pulled tighter into the embrace of his successor.

* * *

" _You know, it just may be a mistake, putting that Dummy in charge of this office. But no one ever got anywhere without taking huge risks," Haymitch says, tossing a more of his seemingly never-ending liquor stash into a box. He holds up one of his 'Best Mentor' mug and eyes it reverently._

" _I'll miss this place, at least what I could remember of it when I wasn't so plastered that I couldn't walk straight, which was most of the time," Haymitch divulges with a wistful laugh. "It's a shame I will have moved on to bigger and better things when Cato Hadley burns this office to the ground and there is no longer a District Twelve."_

* * *

Katniss is grabbing Haymitch a coffee in what she claimed may be her last attempt to sober him up before he is someone else's pain in the ass when she runs into Delly. For a moment, she looks like she wants to back out of the room and retreat back to her desk, but in a vote of confidence with herself, Katniss continues with the streak of facing her problems head on and continues over to the coffeemaker.

"Hey," Katniss says awkwardly, obviously able to sense Delly's eyes boring the holes through her back.

"Hey," Delly replies quickly, looking down at her shoes.

The tension between them could be cut with one of Cato's swords, it is that thick. Katniss finally lets go of a relenting sigh.

"Listen, about the woods…"

"It's okay, Katniss," Delly says, putting her best smile out into the universe and still attempting to be optimistic, even in front of her biggest fear. "People say things they don't mean all the time…"

"Oh, no. That—I've wanted to say that for a while, actually," Katniss clarifies. Wiping her hands on her brown corduroy pants, Katniss shrugs. "I just wanted to say sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

"Thanks," Delly says slowly, her eyes narrowing a bit as the competition between them presents itself more openly now. No longer are these women dancing around the subject, but they are full-on jousting for Peeta.

Taking her own jab, Delly adds, as sticky-sweet as possible, "Oh, and by the way, Katniss, can you make copies of me and Peeta's quarterlies for the interviews tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Katniss says, straightening up a bit after taking the hit at her job as a receptionist. Always a strategist when it comes to playing games, Katniss chooses not to back down from the match point when she adds, "I really hope you get the position at Corporate, Delly."

Katniss doesn't wait for a reply. Instead, she grabs Haymitch's coffee and returns to her work, leaving Delly by herself in the break room.

* * *

" _Bitch," is the only exasperated statement the crew gets from Delly following the altercation. She reddens a bit after saying it, but leaves before she can say anything potentially more harmful about Katniss Everdeen._

 _Clearly, the talks of trying to be friends have vanished._

* * *

"So, Peeta Mellark, tell me: given the past week's events, who will you choose? Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, or Delly Cartwright of the previously known District Four?" Caesar grills Peeta by the water fountain later that day.

"I'm not talking to you about this now, Caesar," Peeta deflects, looking like he desperately needs to get back to quenching his thirst by pouring himself three more Dixie cups of water.

Caesar doesn't seem satisfied with this answer, and in his unending pursuit of gossip, he continues on with his makeshift interview with Peeta.

"Katniss is taller, and undoubtedly has the better body, but Delly does have a lovely face, and is far more pleasant than Katniss. Well, I suppose if you get this job, you could go out with any girl you want," Caesar rambles on while Peeta pretends to be genuinely invested in the whole thing.

"You know what, Caesar, you're right. I must not have thought about this enough. This is a tough call," Peeta mockingly agrees with Caesar. Beckoning Caesar in towards him, until their faces are just inches apart, Peeta keeps his voice low and says, "Look, why don't you take the day and figure it out, and then come back to me with what you've got."

Caesar nods, intent on his mission, and winks at the younger man. "Will do, Peeta Mellark."

* * *

When Katniss enters the break room for lunch, several of the rowdier members of the office are already snickering and exchanging looks behind her back.

"Hey, uh, Katniss?" Finnick pipes up.

He stands up and vacates his tuna sandwich, which the cameras catch Sae eating in one bite. His lips quirk in a playful smirk when the receptionist turns to face him, awaiting his question.

"I just wanted to say…I really miss our friendship. And my favorite colors is blue, in case you're wondering."

Johanna nearly falls back in her chair, howling with laughter. A very smug Finnick gets a high five from Madge. Beetee and Wiress share a laugh, despite their clear desire to stay neutral. Katniss rolls her eyes and laughs along with them.

"Ha-ha, very funny, you guys. I get it."

Johanna extends her arm out toward Katniss, snickering. "Aw, man, what a speech you made! Feel my arm, Everdeen. I mean, I still have goosebumps!"

"I've never heard you talk that much, Katniss…to be quite honest, I thought it was Madge talking for a while," Beetee says, rubbing some dirt off of his glasses as he continues to wear a teasing smile.

Madge, standing in the corner of the room with a strawberry yogurt clutched to her chest, guffaws, as if the thought of being in Katniss' position is a tragedy.

"Are you kidding? I never would have done something like that. It was Patheticville, and Katniss is the Mayor of that town. No offense, Katniss."

Katniss nods, taking all of the jokes in stride.

"Anyone else wanna take a stab at me? Go ahead."

"Well, I'm still betting on you, Girl on Fire," Cinna declares, rising from what everyone assumed was a nap in the corner of the room and patting Katniss on the back before he leaves to go resume his nap elsewhere. This successfully shuts everyone else up and earns Katniss the last word.

* * *

" _No, I don't_ hate _her," Johanna clarifies for the cameras in a private interview when asked about her openly hostile behavior toward Katniss. "She's just a little hard to swallow. The whole tacky romance drama and the defender of her own helplessness act, even though none of it is an act, is unbearable."_

* * *

" _I blogged about the whole thing at the campground. Check it out at www dot whatchasae dot gov backslash saethoughts_ _," Sae announces when asked for an opinion about the events that transpired at the camping trip._

* * *

" _Last year, Greasy Sae cornered me with a sharpened rock and asked me to set up a blog for her," Gale explains_ _when asked for a further comment about Sae's alleged blog._

 _S_ _till the resident young-faced new guy, and apparently therefore the go-to for all things concerning the digital know-how around the office, Gale claims that Sae was very adamant about teaching her how to use a "flip-screen"...which he later figured out was her way of saying laptop._

" _Wanting to spare the world from the mind of Sae, I just opened up a word document, put the address on the top of a blank page, and let her go to town."_

 _Cressida asks if he's read some of it, and Gale's demeanor immediately darkens._

" _Oh yeah. It's…it's even too much for the internet," and then, to himself, he whispers this year's updated version of his social media cry for help: "Hashtag: Death of the Salesman."_

* * *

Haymitch is making his rounds of goodbyes around the office. He compliments Madge in the annex and is greeted with another person sobbing in his arms. He dismisses Effie's kind goodbye, in which she tells him he deserves the best, entirely as "phony, like your damn hair". This results in another lecture about manners in the workplace that Haymitch blatantly ignores.

"Really, Haymitch," Effie sighs with exasperation. "After all these years of working together...you can't find anything remotely nice to say to me?"

"Be a stranger, Trinket, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart," Haymitch says pointedly before walking out of the frame. The HR rep looks helplessly into the camera.

When he stops by accounting, Caesar wastes no time before diving into a series of prying questions.

"Haymitch, do tell: Could it be that the next person at Corporate will be from District Twelve? What is your strategy for the interview process? Shall we have a mock interview now?"

"God, no, knock it off, weirdo. What do you know about interviews, anyway, Flickerman?"

His penciled eyebrows knitting together seriously, Caesar lowers his voice, "But most importantly, will it be strange working under Alma Coin, even months after your messy breakup?"

Wincing a little at the mentioning of his ex, Haymitch tries to cooly shrug his anxieties off and replies, "That's what she said, and I haven't heard from her at all, actually. If she wanted to say something, I feel like she would have called."

"Maybe you should call her and tell her that you will be in town, Haymitch," Beetee presses. "Alma Coin never struck me as a fan of surprise ambushes."

"No, not necessary," Haymitch insists, planting his hands firmly on his hips as he stands his ground.

"But..."

"Look, it's a done deal. The job is basically mine. I already sold my condo to someone on eBay," the manager says, directing that last part to the cameras, "Went for eighty percent of what I bought it for."

Beetee, Clove, and Caesar all exchange worried looks around their desk clump.

"You really shouldn't have done that, Haymitch. I'm sorry, that makes zero sense."

"Can it, Volts," Haymitch grumbles, taking a swig from his flask. Beetee looks up at the camera from under his thickly-rimmed glasses with annoyance.

"What moron gave you that advice?" Clove interjects.

"I counselled myself on this one. I don't need anyone telling me what to do," Haymitch counters gruffly.

Clove mutters something about not being 'surprised' that Haymitch sought his own council out on this decision, but her face drains of its color nonetheless.

"You don't know for _sure_ about the job yet, though," the small woman nearly shrieks, her voice has risen so many octaves in her surprise. She cannot contain her groans at her boss' stupidity.

"You should _never_ sell your house, and on eBay, nonetheless," Caesar agrees, his shiny white teeth gritting together with apprehension. "That's not the best move, I'm afraid."

"Oh, what do you guys know about money anyway?" a stewing Haymitch spits at the three accountants before storming off.

* * *

Panem's oddest couple is found mid-morning at their usual hideout by the vending machines in the break room.

"Pookie, how would you like to spend the night with the regional manager of District Twelve?" Cato asks, towering above Clove.

The cameras watch through the glass doors as Clove crosses her arms angrily over her chest. If their argument from the campsite has been at all patched up, they certainly have not clearly indicated this to the crew. For these two, hostility could just as easily business is continuing as usual.

"I have told you time and time again, I don't care if that's how warriors got secrets in your stupid fantasy books, I will not sleep with Haymitch…"

"No, not Haymitch. _Me."_

Clove's thin lips turn upward in the closest thing to a smile she can muster to differentiate this pleased look from her usual grimace.

"You got the job?"

Cato nods proudly. "I know I've let you down before, Pookie, but things are finally looking up. I am taking over when Haymitch gets promoted."

Clove is toothily smiling now, unable to contain her excitement. Without reaching around and kissing him, the cameras pan down to watch her hand find his. Their fingers intertwine, and Clove gives him a small, congratulatory squeeze before she catches herself and tells Cato to run away for now, and that she will see him tonight. He takes a creepily endearing sniff of her hair before he complies.

"Goodbye, Wiress and all the dead weights on the CAREERS," Clove whispers to herself triumphantly after Cato hurries away. She finishes eating her single carrot stick, biting with satisfied crunches, before scurrying in the opposite direction of Cato's departure.

* * *

" _Once I am officially named regional manager, my first order of business will be demoting Peeta Mellark. Lover Boy has been nothing but a thorn in my side since day one, and vengeance is a dish best served flaming hot," Cato says, grinning maniacally. "Welcome to the Hotel Hell, Peeta. Check out is never."_

 _He pauses mid-evil laughter to ponder a thought that hasn't crossed his mind yet._

" _That means I'll need a new number two. My ideal choice would be Leonidas, King of Sparta, but he is unfortunately unavailable, overqualified, and fictional."_

* * *

Cato audibly groans when Finnick Odair is the first one to sign up for the position of Number Two in the office as soon as Cato posts the sign-up sheet. The salesman flashes the new manager a cocky grin as he purposefully jams the cap back on the pen, after signing his name with a flourish. Cato is red in the face, bordering on explosive, when Finnick tauntingly places the pen in the pocket protector of Cato's mustard yellow dress shirt.

"Looks like I'll be seeing you at the interview," Finnick says, drawing out each syllable of the word slowly and sweetly, like melting sugar cubes on his tongue. "Or better yet, at your side at nine o'clock sharp tomorrow, where I rightfully belong."

The brooding elected manager is about to open his mouth in protest when Finnick holds up an envelope, with his name scrawled onto the front of it in Haymitch's handwriting.

Obviously the position was not Cato's to give away.

"Good thing we're allies, right?" Finnick says, tormenting the other man.

"Where did you get that?"

"Where do you think?" Coming dangerously close to stand right by Cato's ear, Finnick tacks on for good measure, "I look forward to working with you, Hadley."

* * *

The cameras catch Katniss exhibiting what Haymitch claims is her notoriously bad acting when she hastily looks up from her desk, a thinly-concealed look of annoyance etched in her features, at the sound of Delly's punchy laughter across the room.

Following the receptionist's eye-line, the focus is now on the two blonde sales staffers. Peeta is sitting in his girlfriend's desk chair, narrating Delly through the happenings of a viral YouTube video in which a cat runs itself into a wall repeatedly while trying to chase a light.

"This cat's risking at least seven of its valued nine lives, here," Peeta observes, covering up his amused smile with a hand.

Once her laughter dies down, Delly, who watches from behind Peeta, cocks her head to the side and frowns.

"It's kinda sad, though, don't you think? Those kids are just dangling the light in front of the cat to taunt it."

Peeta's hand moved from his mouth to cover the one she's firmly planted on his shoulder.

"Don't read into it so much, Dell," he says softly, glancing up ever-so-slightly at Katniss, who has now gone back to busying herself at her desk.

The cat does another wild alley-oop to capture the light, and Delly can't help but laugh.

That's when the receptionist takes her third bathroom break of the day. As she hastily barrels forward past Delly's desk clump with her head down, Finnick Odair watches her go with a smirk. He seems to be taking Katniss' frequent trips as a sign of her interest in him.

* * *

 _"Since the status of the love triangle has yet to show any signs of shifting, I took it upon myself to ask Cheese Buns if I could pursue Katniss. I mean, I've said it before and I'll say it again: if you see something sweet, grab it," Finnick professes to the cameras in a private interview._

 _"When I asked him about some of her favorite things, he mentioned violent movies, large crowds, and lots of luxury items. He says the more lavish, the better. Seemed unlike Katniss, honestly, but if it's coming from him, then I have to take Cheese Buns' word for it. Hence, this rather loud shirt," Finnick says._

 _He then makes a point of showing off an expensive-looking dress shirt that he has left one too many buttons undone on, which in turn shows off his defined chest. He is so impressed with himself and his efforts that he fails to see that Peeta has clearly given him a list of items that will only deflect the receptionist._

 _"Bring it on," Finnick says, cracking his knuckles in preparation. "Katniss Everdeen, prepare to have your world finessed by Finnick."_

* * *

"Katniss," he says, drawing out the "ss" sound in her name like a ravenous python as he intercepts her path to the restrooms. "What has you in such a hurry?"

"Pee. I have to pee," Katniss blurts out, clearly lying.

Her eyes dart to where Peeta now unmistakably watches, despite being out of earshot for this conversation. The suave salesman laughs and takes a step closer, and Katniss flinches in response. Finnick construes this as a point to his advantage anyway, grinning from ear to ear.

"Can I interest you in a sugar cube?" Finnick flirtatiously inquires as he pulls a sugar cube from the seemingly endless supply he has on reserve. Katniss politely shakes her head and attempts to get around him, which is thwarted when Finnick raises a muscular arm to jam the cube in her face, blocking her escape route.

"No, thanks. But I would like to borrow that shirt sometime," Katniss fires back, granting Finnick and his tight-fitted, low-buttoned red top the once over it so badly wanted. "What is this made of anyway? Silk?"

Finally catching onto her sarcasm, Finnick's smile dims a bit.

"I see you're not wearing your pretty little girl dresses anymore," he counters, raising one eyebrow suggestively. Only Finnick would equate Katniss' change in fashion with her change in emotional state of being. "Outgrew them after the camping trip, did we?"

Katniss shrugs. "I did."

Finnick smirks, obviously enjoying every moment of this banter that he has Katniss begrudgingly engaged in. He takes another step forward, this time with much more swagger in the sway of his hips.

"Listen, you're cute. There's no way of getting around it. You ever wanna get together and go to a concert sometime?" When her face contorts with obvious displeasure, he switches the tactic up. "Or we could stay in and watch a movie? I hear there's a new _Gore and Peace_ movie coming to Netflix..."

"No, thanks, Finnick," Katniss dismisses him quickly, trying again to make a quick exit to the bathroom. She is again interrupted by Finnick's wild green eyes boring down on her.

"You know, Kitty Kat, now that the boss is on his way out, I'm going to be Number Two around here in the office. And with that system in place, _you_ can make out like a bandit..."

Katniss raises a hand to stop his speech from becoming any more elusive.

"Finnick, I appreciate your forwardness, but I have plenty more than I need in my current position. I'm just..." she pauses, searching for the right way to let him down. With an ego like his, she knows she must phrase this rejection craftily. "I shouldn't use you to dangle in front of someone else just to taunt them."

Finnick peers over her head, to where Peeta still entertains Delly at her desk. He smiles, and for the first time in his history of this documentary, it's sincere.

"I misjudged you, Everdeen."

Katniss, shocked that Finnick would concede so quickly, is left reeling by his response. "What?"

"After the campfire confessional, I thought this whole star-crossed romance was an act. You know, for the cameras," Finnick says, crossing his arms over his chest so that his taught muscles can flex while he looks up into the camera he knows is trained on him. "I think a lot of us figured it was your little strategy to get attention around here. But here you are, pining for something that may as well be dead with Cheese Buns...I've been there before. You love him, and I'm not saying in what way, because you might not even know that yourself yet. But I know what it's like to feel your chances of ever knowing slip away."

Katniss ogles Finnick in amazement. Both the receptionist and anyone watching can agree that they misjudged Finnick's capacity for emotional intelligence up until this moment.

"How do you live with it?" she says finally, voice cracking at the end of her question.

Finnick smiles sadly. "Just don't give into it. It takes way longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart."

* * *

In the middle of the day, Haymitch runs from his office and literally dives behind Katniss' desk for no apparent reason, looking the most afraid he has ever looked in his two years of being documented.

"God, no. Def-Con Ten. Why? Why? _Why?_ " he mutters frantically as he curls himself into a ball and ducks behind Katniss' coat, unaware that he is still in plain view of the camera's sight lines.

"What are you doing? Who are you hiding from?" Katniss inquires, her voice rising with worry. Her face then contorts in annoyance when she switches gears and rises from her chair to lean in the direction of Cato. "You're not playing Knife Wielders again, are you?"

Peeta instinctively ducks when Cato snorts through a mouthful of an egg salad sandwich.

"Pfft. No. Knife Wielders is child's play, and if I am to be the newly crowned manager, I can't afford to act like a child."

Testing out this theory, Gale exchanges a look with Peeta before he reaches over and knocks over Cato's prized gladiator bobble-head, a gift which, unbeknownst to them, was from Clove for his recent birthday.

"Spartacus!" Cato shrieks like a petulant little boy. He dives across his desk and immediately inspects the toy for any scratches or broken parts.

Peeta shoots the cameras a smirk as he says, "Great, so we proved that point. Still doesn't explain why Haymitch is playing Hide-And-Go-Not-Do-His-Job behind reception, though."

That's when the cameras spot a familiar flash of gray coming through the front door before anyone else can.

The low whistle emitted from Gale's lips sounds like a detonating bomb.

"Haymitch?" Coin asks, brushing right past Katniss and locating Haymitch immediately.

He curses, upset for being caught so quickly, before crawling out from his hiding place. He tries to pawn the blatant attempt at making himself invisible off as locating a missing one hundred dollar bill before he rises and meets his ex's eye level.

"Alma!" Haymitch says with feigned excitement while brushing himself off. "It is good to…why are you here?"

"Yeah, why are you here?" Katniss echoes, defenses flaring for the sake of her boss and sometimes-confidant.

Alma's eyes dart from her ex-boyfriend, to the receptionist, to the cameras. While her eyes flit nervously, the attention of the crew goes to focusing on other features of Alma's body. Her eyes and cheeks are more prominent on her otherwise washed-out face, lips puckered in a tight smile. The wrinkles in her forehead and loose skin on her neck have vanished. She comes in closer to Haymitch, only to watch as he steps away.

"I just wanted to talk. Sorry to drop by so unexpectedly. I tried to call, but I kept getting voicemail."

"Weird, because I got neither of your two messages."

If this has any effect on Alma, her almost emotionless face does not show it. She visibly straightens her gray suit jacket and juts out her chin toward him, and yet the same firm, tight, smile remains.

"Listen, Haymitch. I was…unhappy with the way things ended and I just wanted to talk," she says, still smiling. This starts to have an effect on those watching. Katniss squirms in her desk chair and Peeta averts his eyes. Even stoic Cato looks like he might lose his lunch from how nauseous this exchange is making him.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Let's talk," Haymitch stammers.

Coin clears her throat.

"In private."

Haymitch ushers her into his office, and the cameras assume their usual position that they used to take right outside of his office for previous "private" conversations between them.

Before they disappear from the other witnesses in the room, Haymitch looks over at Katniss, and the cameras catch her mouthing "Be strong" to him as the door to the office shuts.

Once safe inside the confines of Haymitch's office, Alma sighs and regains her composure from the brief moment of weakness she displayed in front of Katniss. Commanding the room, as always, she leans on the desk across from where Haymitch nervously bounces on the balls of his feet.

"I guess I should just get right to the point. After we broke up, I took some time for myself and I wanted to really reflect on everything in the interim before even seeing if there was a shot at us getting back together…"

"Interim?" Haymitch scoffs. "And how long exactly is that interim?"

"We have no way of knowing, do we? But it's clear that when everything happened we were both too emotional to make rational decisions. It became apparent pretty early on in my self-reflection period that my, uh, thirst for you was a difficult urge to satisfy, so I have made some big changes in my life, and I've come to the conclusion that I miss you. I think we should get back together."

And he's about to take Katniss' advice for once, instead of doling it out on his own accord. He is about to be strong when he notices that something is visibly different about the changes Alma made, and stops to study her for a moment.

Then, it hits him.

"You got botox?!" he practically screeches, sending the microphones on the cameras haywire.

* * *

" _Oh, do I look happier? You really think that? Thank you! That's because everything in me has been lifted!" Coin says with an airy laugh in a private interview, now that the cat has been let out of the bag by Haymitch._

 _Unlike Peeta and his haircut, this change of appearance has seemed to also result in a total personality makeover, even though it is very clearly cracked under the surface. Alma Coin looks like a gray volcano ready to spew molten lava any minute._

 _Leaning in closer, she winks and adds, "And I mean_ everything _has been lifted...even parts I can't show you on camera."_

* * *

 _When asked for a comment on the Botox, Haymitch seems to have read the signs of Alma's very clear metal break much differently from what the cameras have captured._

" _Alma is in a different place right now. She actually looks young—and by that I mean, she has a very youthful quality about her. And it is a sign of maturity to root for the underdog. So…I am going to hear her out," Haymitch confesses._

* * *

Not too soon after her arrival, Coin is leaving the office, the big smile on her face now suddenly making much more sense. The blinds to Haymitch's office are re-opened, and both the Vice President and regional manager look disheveled.

Cato openly scoffs at this display of emasculation on his superior's behalf, earning a kick in the shin from his across-the-desk-clumpmate. Peeta's look is pleading and stops the angry howl from ever leaving Cato's throat.

"My, oh, my...this cannot be good," Caesar comments under his breath. Clove nods in agreement.

But the two former lovers are oblivious to anything else happening around them. Alma throws everyone for a loop when she openly kisses Haymitch and tells him that she will see him in New York tomorrow. Her revitalized hips swing to a soundless tune as she saunters out of the office without her usual cold, formal goodbye.

Katniss is immediately eyeing him with disbelief.

"What happened?!"

"Love is weird, Sweetheart," Haymitch says plainly, shrugging and looking at the cameras like he couldn't have prevented this.

This is met with protest from just about everyone within earshot.

"I don't get what the problem is?" Delly says over the chaos, gathering her belongings to pack up for her departure. "Weren't they in love at one point? They must have _some_ positive memories of each other."

Effie, who has come from the annex to watch the world burn with the rest of the office, _tsks_ at the saleswoman's naïveté.

"Oh, Darling, you still have so much to learn about this place, even after all this time," the purple-haired woman says with a small laugh. Effie pats Delly sympathetically on the back before retreating to the annex while celebrating the superiority high of her bully's stupidity.

Delly looks at the camera and bites her lip, undoubtedly hoping she won't have to be around 'this place' for much longer if all goes well in New York.

Everyone else, meanwhile, is still berating Haymitch.

"Are you really that shallow that you agreed to get back together with someone who made you _miserable_ because she looks younger?" Katniss cries, incredulous.

"Pipe down, Sweetheart. It's not like I stayed with someone who made me miserable because he was safe and then poured my heart out to the other guy who followed me around like a puppy dog for years after it was too late," he fires back. "Oh, wait. That sounds familiar."

This gets the attention of Peeta and Delly just as they're about to leave the for New York as well.

"Okay, well, wish us luck!" Delly pipes up in a last ditch attempt to evade the awkward retelling of the campfire events yet again.

Cato stands at his desk, Bluetooth still attached to his ear, and points an incriminating finger at her.

"No, do not wish them luck. All luck must be wished unto Haymitch."

Everyone in the office promptly disobeys their potential new manager and wishes Peeta and Delly good luck.

* * *

At the end of the work day, Haymitch gathers everyone and wishes them one final goodbye. He recites another one of his long-winded, nonsensical drunken speeches before he walks backwards out of the office. He continues to peer over his shoulder, as if he is waiting for people to stand on their desks and salute him a la _Dead Poets Society,_ tripping over himself as he goes.

Immediately after the regional manager's departure, Cato locks the doors and tells everyone the reign of House Hadley has taken over. He and Finnick promptly get to work painting the walls of Haymitch's office jet black while blasting the _Game of Thrones_ theme music for all to hear.

The cameras slowly pan over the expression of those who remain in the District Twelve office. Everyone but Clove looks like they are contemplating their resignation in this moment.

* * *

"So what happens to us when I get this job?" Delly inquires.

The production team has sent Castor and some of the crew have followed the interviewees to get footage from the next day's big events, and they happened to have stumbled upon Delly and Peeta leaving a nice restaurant at the conclusion of their date. Their entwined hands swing back and forth while they walk down the busy streets of New York City.

Her question doesn't seem to reach him the first time she asks, so she repeats herself, giggling loudly when Peeta snaps out of his trance and feigns offense in his usual sarcastic manner.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dell...you have your words mixed up. You mean when _I_ get this job, right?" Peeta fires back, nudging her playfully.

A yellow taxi whizzes by, sending up a spray of water from a puddle in a pothole underneath them. Peeta pulls Delly out of the water's way at the last second. This moment really seems to be jarring for both of them, and neither can come up with a witty quip right away.

"I'm serious, Peet. What happens? If—and big if here, seeing as you're not _at all_ as qualified as me—you get the job, I would move here with you…would you move in with me?" asks Delly, the banter slowly being stripped away until reality is all that is left standing between them and the puddle-soaked street.

It is obvious that this took a lot of mustering of courage for her to ask this. Peeta doesn't answer immediately. He keeps his focus laser-pointed ahead as he looks up and down the road for signs of traffic.

"Uh..."

"I'm not ignoring the obvious, Peeta. I was at the camping trip," Delly says tersely, pushing for a conversation that Peeta visibly would rather avoid at all costs. "We have no future in Allentown. You understand that, right?"

A small, sad smile creeps into Peeta's features.

"I do," he tells her earnestly before pulling her across the street into a bakery.

* * *

The following morning, Cato calls Katniss into his now pitch-black office.

"Everdeen, you showed great leadership potential at the coal walk, even if you followed it with that embarrassingly sappy confession. You could sway the masses if you spoke up more and kept the personal drama out of it, you know," he explains to the receptionist, who is seated across from his desk.

"Thanks, Cato. I like the new paint job," Katniss says, acknowledging the darkened office space.

"It's meant to intimidate anyone who walks in here asking for mercy from me." He makes the very calculated choice to look seriously into the cameras in this moment and enforce, "Which is a dumb move, because I show _no one_ mercy."

"It's working," Katniss answers quickly, all of her sarcasm lost on him completely. Cato is too proud to notice the blatant laughter in Katniss' voice. He smirks and continues to swivel in Haymitch's former rolling desk chair with prowess. Leaning back, he props each of his legs on the desk.

"Finnick is my Number Two, as you know, due to a legality. But I need someone who I can trust. You have been the mission all along, Miss Everdeen."

Katniss, sensing the now "serious" tone of the conversation, straightens up in her seat.

"What must I do, Cato?"

"I want you to hold the title of Assistant _to_ the Regional Manager in Secret," he says, keeping his voice trained at a low quiver. "Do you accept?"

Katniss nods, taking all of this in with mock consideration and thought.

"Absolutely I do. I will be your Secret Assistant Regional Manager…"

"Secret Assistant _to_ the regional manager," Cato interjects.

"... _But_ I have some conditions," she finishes quickly, and Cato makes a noise of defeat.

"Ugh. Very well. I'll allow it."

Katniss leans in, balancing her elbows on her knees. "One: immunity for Peeta, should he come back to work here. No punishments or demotions. The same goes for Delly."

"No!" Cato cries out, and he jumps up out of his chair as if the request has burned him. "That ruins everything...I mean, individual requests like that cannot be made without proper tribunal."

Asserting her persuasive sway that Cato had just complimented her on earlier, Katniss slams her fist down on the desk.

"We are losing ground with each minute you waste debating this. The tribunals, the justice you're seeking…that's all part of the new Panem. I get that. But even justice can be bent for noble causes. Peeta would be doing the same for you, if the roles were reversed. You _will_ protect him, or else you will find another Secret Assistant to the Regional Manager."

Cato, caught in his own trap, hisses in anguish.

"Fine! Fine! Lover Boy's job is safe. Anything else?"

Katniss, quite impressed with herself, smiles to herself and leans into this liberation.

"I want a new chair. And an extra vacation day."

* * *

"You guys need anything? Everything alright?" Haymitch asks, sitting across from Peeta and Delly in the waiting area of the Corporate offices the next morning.

They are all dressed in their finest business casual clothing, both Peeta and Haymitch breaking away from their more casual workplace looks for suits. Delly fidgets a little with her skirt.

"No, we're good, thanks," Peeta replies coolly before returning his attention back to his clasped hands in his lap. The cameras, meanwhile, rack focus on his leg, which bounces nervously.

"I feel like this skirt is way too short," Delly complains, specifically to Peeta. This unfortunately invites Haymitch's unwanted two cents into the conversation.

"If I had legs like yours, I'd go even shorter. It's a killer strategy," he muses. He gestures at Peeta and says, "You better watch yourself, boy, because she knows what she's doing."

Delly drops the skirt complaint after that and opts to look out the window at the sprawling New York skyline.

Another agonizing stretch of time goes by in utter silence. The phone rings. People come rushing by talking into their headsets. But the three interviewees remain hushed.

Until Haymitch pulls out a travel-sized container of whiskey and begins to down it. Peeta and Delly look on with wide-eyed stares of disbelief.

"Calms the nerves," Haymitch clarifies when he spots two pairs of blue eyes judging him. "Relax, I won't trip and fall again."

"Haymitch, how many of those have you had today?" Delly asks carefully.

"Uh…I lost count."

"You're drunk right now?" Peeta half-hisses, half-whispers. "I thought you were supposed to be setting an example and showing us the ropes. If Snow finds out you've been drinking…"

"He won't, Mellark," Haymitch insists. This is followed by a large belch. When Peeta tries to speak up again, Haymitch's foot comes across the table separating their couches and pins Peeta back with his perfectly shined dress shoe.

"The job is basically mine, and it's cute that the kid actors came along to the casting call, but Daddy over here is the star, and Daddy knows how to play his cards right," Haymitch mutters threateningly.

Peeta chooses to join Delly at the window while his boss downs another shot of liquor.

* * *

President Snow is surprisingly all smiles when he invites Haymitch into his office for the interview. The room is covered in fresh, white roses. The carpet is blood red, and Haymitch's new shoes catch in the cut pile as he staggers to his designated seat. Snow sits at the head of his desk in a chair that looks much too large for such a small old man. However, the President carries himself in such a way that he seems to fill the sparse, yet pristine office with just one look from under his glasses with his serpentine eyes.

"I have been meaning to congratulate you on the success of the merger, Haymitch," Snow says as he takes the packet of credentials from the regional manager. "Not a single customer lost, and you still managed to trim the budget. As you know, I hate waste, so this is all very pleasing news."

Haymitch, smiling into the cameras, says, "Thank you, Sir."

"I suppose we ought to get right down to brass tacks, then," Snow says, beginning the interview. "What do you think the strongest quality in a manager should be? What are your strengths?"

Haymitch lets the alcohol take over and sets forth on a journey with no map or compass. Launching full throttle into another one of his long-winded pursuits that have no end in sight, his whole body propels to the edge of his chair before beginning.

"Well, I think the _weakest_ thing a manager can provide is a lack of hope."

"Hope?" Snow asks, one of his bushy white eyebrows rising in confusion. He chuckles a little. "I asked you about strengths, Haymitch."

"Well, I guess that's where we differ. Hope is a strength, Sir. It's stronger than fear, you see. A little hope is effective, and it can go a long way. It provides a spark in people. Without hope, you've got nothing to root for."

"And how do you contain that spark, Haymitch?" Snow asks, referring to his managerial skills. He appears somewhat impressed with Haymitch's answer.

But Haymitch, however, has begun to let his nerves and the alcohol get the best of him. His eyes are glassy, he continues to sneak in small belches into his coat sleeve, and he has begun to sway in his seat.

"I work too hard, I care too much, and sometimes I am too invested in my job. Mentoring is very taxing stuff…" his answer trails off as something shiny on Snow's desk, a glass plate containing biscotti and tea, distracts him.

Snow's eyes narrow as he takes in Haymitch's state of inebriation.

"I…I see. Very well, then," slowly, he rises from the desk and reaches out a gloved hand to shake with Haymitch. "Thank you for coming in, Haymitch. It is always a pleasure when our paths cross."

Haymitch, with his head held high, starts out of the office with a satisfied strut. A new thought suddenly stops him at the brass handle of the office door.

"Oh! Before I forget. If you haven't already heard, Alma and I are officially back together, so I need to fill out another one of those love forms, if you have any on hand…and I know we're all professionals here, but I am very much looking forward to the prospect of being her office romance again."

Snow's snake-like amber eyes go wide. For once, he looks as though what Haymitch has said has struck a fear in his cold, unfeeling heart.

"I thought the description of the position was quite clear, Haymitch," Snow stammers, searching for the right words to say before going on. "Well...I suppose I was wrong. But…the job you are interviewing for is Coin's."

The cameras quickly pan to Haymitch for a reaction, but he is somehow still all smiles.

"Oh, so we're like equals?"

Snow's concerned frown deepens.

"No, Haymitch. We're letting Alma go."

* * *

" _What the *_ _ **bleep***_ _am I supposed to do, guys?" Haymitch whispers in a panic during a private interview that he demands be held as soon as he hastily left Snow's office without a word._

 _Racing down the hallway, Pollux the cameraman struggles to keep up with Haymitch's quick strides, tracking the subject of the documentary by walking backward with the heavy equipment. As he speaks, the regional manager becomes more and more breathless._

" _We just agreed in the car on the way over here that we would keep_ nothing _from each other, so as a boyfriend, I'm obligated to tell her…but my boss—who is going to fire her and give me her job—told me not to tell her…What do I do?"_

" _Tell me what?" a familiar voice pipes up from behind the camera._

 _When Pollux swings around, he is met with the taut, smiling face of Alma Coin. In his tizzy, Haymitch subconsciously walked right to her office. An office that will soon no longer belong to her._

 _The camera returns to Haymitch, who trembles with the weight of this secret that lies on his shoulders. Like Katniss, Haymitch is notoriously bad at lying. In this moment, with sweat rolling down his temple and knuckles clenched so tightly they've gone white, he is an open book._

" _I—uh, you know, Darling? Don't you ever just stop and ask yourself sometimes, 'Gee, I wonder if I can really trust the people I am working for?' Not saying I don't trust you, because our relationship depends on it, but…"_

" _Haymitch," Coin says sharply, her face attempting to bend the botox in the closest thing the cameras have seen to a frown since her return, "What's going on?"_

* * *

Delly is just finishing up with her basic five year plan in her interview with Snow when the heavy doors to the office slam open without warning. Alma storms in, followed by two of Snow's security guards, followed by a wheezing Haymitch Abernathy.

"Where the hell do you get off, Coriolanus? _Firing me_ , really?!"

Snow's gaze nervously locates the cameras as he dusts off his velvet suit jacket while he stands at attention to the raging parade that has just entered his office.

"Alma, now is not the time…you cannot come in here and hijack an interview…"

"Answer me, you son-of-a-bitch!" Coin shrieks, although her lips hardly move as she does so, and it makes for an interesting bit of visual irony.

The older President's eyes narrow before he throws his gloved hands up in the air in mock-surrender. Delly, who's been put right in the middle of this, looks to Haymitch for help, but he's ducking behind one of Snow's decorative rose arrangements in a far corner away from the mess he's made.

"Frankly, Alma, it's overdue. I was watching the Districts, and they were watching me, but no one was watching you. Your behavior these past two years has been nothing short of erratic! You smoke in your office, you spend with the company card frivolously for things online, you lie about visiting your children in Albany so you can go to Allentown, and don't pretend like you haven't been trying to slowly turn everyone in this office against me because you are gunning for my job – which is odd, considering you do not do your work anymore. You are unstable, Alma. The time has come to end your professional relationship with Panem Electric."

Breaking away from the two guards, Coin rounds Snow's desk until the two are standing mere inches from each other in the coldest stand-off the cameras have seen.

"Is it because of this?" Coin interrupts Snow's speech with an answer that can only be described as 'unstable' as she points to her lifted cheeks. Snow tries to object, but she cuts him off and pulls Haymitch from his hiding place. "Because if that is the case, I will fight you and this whole company until it burns! I will not leave until I see justice served!"

She starts chanting the company's motto of "Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever", followed by three long "hoo-ahs" as her battle cry while Snow calls in his guards and Haymitch swears he had nothing to do with it.

Delly simply gapes at the camera.

* * *

Coin, with all of her personal belongings in tow, is still wearing her creepy Botox smile when she is escorted out of the office by two guards at either side.

"For the record, I was trying to take your job. And I would have been a hell of a lot better at it than you are," she snarls at President Snow, hurling all of the insult she can into her sneer.

With that, Alma Coin keeps her head held high as a last dignity before her job's death. Snow watches her go with the slightest hint of laughter on his puffy, blood-red lips.

Then, a certain very guilty party pops into the frame.

"So, I am going to drive her home, but let me know about the job," Haymitch half-jokes, half-belches. He stumbles a little over his own two feet, allowing his flask to come clamoring to the ground, along with three empty, tiny whiskey bottles.

As expected, Snow tells him that the company has decided to go in another direction with the position. Haymitch, however, seems to take this news as somewhat of a surprise. He reels back on his heels for a moment, as if Snow has just delivered him with a more painful blow than the one his girlfriend has just suffered.

"Good, because you know, that would be such a douche move as a boyfriend to take that job, anyway…so I am withdrawing my name from consideration, if you accept," he says, rather necessarily.

Snow, all too used to Haymitch's backwards ways of displaying defense mechanisms, just nods in agreement.

Haymitch, head hanging low like a puppy dog with its tail between its legs, leaves the Corporate office.

* * *

Back in Twelve, everyone has been packed into the conference room for a meeting that has been called over a new PA system that Cato had Finnick install earlier.

"Attention employees of Panem Electric!" Cato bellows. "Welcome to your first informational session with me, your new Regional Manager, Cato Hadley. Starting now, you train to become warriors of this business. We will stop at nothing until we are the best, got it? Today, we are going to learn about our product and where it comes from."

Instead of the cheers and interested nods he had been aiming for, Cato is met with only blank, bored stares. Only Katniss, who is entertaining herself by pretending to value her secret allegiance to Cato, Clove, who wears her usual scowl despite the glittering pride in her eyes, and Finnick, who is a professional ass-kisser, appear excited about the subject matter.

"Now, let's start simple. Who can tell me where coal comes from?" Cato, playing teacher, addresses his pupils. No one responds, so Cato calls on Caesar at random.

"Ooh, a toughie, indeed! Is it the mines, Cato?"

"Wrong, but close! Miners get coal from the _ground_. Everyone absorb this information like sea sponges, because you're only getting it once and it is invaluable. Now, Johanna, answer me this: when coal burns, does it release itself from a solid to a liquid or a gaseous state?"

"Um…" a very apathetic Johanna pretends to mull this over, "Gas?"

"Wrong! I was looking for heat energy!" Cato corrects her.

Johanna rolls her eyes. "That wasn't an option, though."

"You're supposed to always assume that there is a third option, that is rule number one from now on. Think ahead of your competitors like that, and you're on your way," Cato responds. Finnick nods enthusiastically along to his every word. Again, this is met with little response, and the room basically flat lines.

Simmering, Cato adds spitefully, "I tricked you to see if you all were mentally apt to handle such an assumption without my having to tell you, but clearly there is work to be done."

Rising to be at Cato's level, Finnick lowers his tone and speaks without being prompted, "Maybe everyone could benefit from being punished for disrespecting our boss' intellect?"

"No, uh, don't do that…" Cato starts.

This combination of trick question and potential punishment is finally met with some pushback. From where she has been sitting and smiling softly in the back of the room, Clove's expression flips into a grimace as her lover loses control of the room.

"Hey! Everyone pay attention to Cato!" Katniss shouts, with a sudden abrasiveness that conjures up images of her standing by a bonfire again. "He is the superior one!"

Due to Katniss' defense of the brute, people are shocked into silence again. Katniss wordlessly gives Cato a look that seems to say, 'The nerve of these people!', and Cato mirrors the sentiment by winking knowingly at her. Beetee, confused by everything that's been happening, adjusts his glasses.

"Pardon me, Cato, but why are you winking to Kat—?"

"Zip your lid!" Cato commands before launching into the rest of his lesson.

* * *

"Oh, my goodness," Delly, barely able to contain her laughter, declares as she returns to Peeta in the waiting area after Snow returned to wrap up with the rest of her interview. "That was like watching that crazy reality show _Peacekeepers_ in there, except no one was keeping the peace."

Peeta stifles a snort.

"C'mon, Curly Q, you mean to tell me that as a 'sure choice' for this job, you couldn't figure out how to keep _Alma Coin_ from _exploding_? She's _never_ like this, you know that," he chides her sarcastically. As she giggles, he 'tsks' at her like Effie does. "Bad management…"

"I will never be able to un-see that. Ever," Delly remarks. "I will forever have nightmares about that interview. Maybe I can't handle this job. This place has become a zone of trauma for me."

"Yeah, I can see you're still shaking."

"And somehow, I still _nailed_ that interview," she fires back, winking at him. Their usual banter seems to have returned quite easily to them. Peeta and Delly revel in this feeling, staring at each other until the laughter leaves their throats and it's just them in the lobby.

She then asks Peeta if he wants her to wait up for his interview to finish so that he can join her for lunch with her friend from the city. He tells her not to worry and to go ahead and get lunch without him, he'll call when he's done.

Kissing him on the cheek, the sunny, optimistic girl from District Four seems to have returned, even if only for a moment.

"Knock 'em dead, Bread Boy," she whispers before grabbing her coat and leaving. "Love you."

She leaves without waiting to hear his response, as if she is worried he will not tell her what she wants to hear back.

And then, like a cruel cue from a higher being above were taunting Peeta, the cameras keep rolling long enough to catch the phone of the main office ring.

"Panem Electric, this is Antonia," a woman behind the desk by the offices recites naturally as she takes the incoming call.

Peeta watches Antonia transfer phone lines, and a strange look melts his much-more heavily guarded features to capture the boy from last year staring longingly at a receptionist.

* * *

On their way back to Twelve, after three different meals at expensive restaurants way out of Haymitch's price range that sober both of them up quickly, Alma Coin talks non-stop. About how much of a jerk Snow is, about Panem's failing system, and about how angry she is.

"But you know what, it's a good thing. It really is. My work has always been what's gotten in the way of my happiness. It ruined my marriage, and my relationship with my kids, and held me back from my real dreams…"

Then, she is no longer angry. She is sobbing. That plastered smile from what seemed like a botched Botox job up until this point shatters under the gray cloud above her gray head.

"What am I gonna do?" she cries weakly, voice garbled by her tears as she holds her head in her hands. "I have nowhere to go."

Haymitch weakly reaches from the steering wheel to pat her knee in his best attempt at comfort, although it is plain to see that this mood swing has made him very uncomfortable.

"Well, you could…come stay with me in my condo?" he ventures. "I can probably get it back from that guy on eBay. I'll get some negative feedback, but that's never really stopped me before."

"Live with you?" Coin shouts incredulously. Then, she lets the idea sit, and her mood swings yet again as she bursts into euphoric laughter. "Yes! Then, I could devote my time to our relationship and our second chance! It's perfect!"

Now that she's run the gamut of every emotion, the armor she has built behind her Botox has cracked and it becomes apparent to Haymitch that a little lift physically has not changed her emotionally.

Haymitch looks like he wants to lean out the car window and vomit up all three of his expensive meals.

* * *

"I'm back, boys and bitches!"

The announcement comes as a shock to everyone. Most of them, it seems, got used to Haymitch being gone in less than a day, based on their bewildered looks when they spot the boss, back to his usual belligerent self after dropping Alma off at the condo and drinking himself silly outside of the office, returning at the end of the work day. He is essentially numb to all of the day's events, and he has no problem letting everyone know that he is fine with it.

"How did the interview – ?" Wiress, bravely volunteering to speak up first, starts, but Haymitch cuts her off with a noise that sounds like half a cackle and half a sob. He strides into the center of the office and his balance wavers for a moment. Everyone looks on with astonishment.

"I withdrew from consideration," he announces. "So, I am back. Forever. I am never leaving you, because I am never going anywhere. I am never getting off this freight train from hell I call my life!"

He launches forward on his toes, falling flat on his face. Realizing that he's had too much to drink, he waves in Gale's direction from his new perch on the floor.

"Coffee, Hawthorne."

"I don't do that anymore," Gale says, standing up for his promotion that he's had for over a year.

"I know. It's for me, bimbo," Haymitch replies, rubbing his head and missing Gale's intention of rebuttal entirely. Pushing himself into a seated position, he sighs sharply, and then he squints at something in the distance that captures his attention.

"Am I literally blacking out, or did someone paint my office black?"

The camera pans over to the doorway of the manager's office, where Cato, donning paint-splotched workpants and a crestfallen expression, stands. His reign has ended. He shares a solemn look with Katniss, who simply raises three fingers to her lips before putting them in the air in solidarity with their short-lived careers as Regional Manager and his Secret Assistant to the Regional Manager.

"I'll fix it right away, Boss. And I've got that coffee you ordered, too," Cato says with a salute before ducking out of the pitch-black room and darting to the break room at full throttle, restoring the natural order of the office once more.

* * *

"Mister Mellark, I must be honest, I don't know how I feel about hiring an Eagles fan. You and my granddaughter are both traitors," Snow jokes.

Shrugging and flashing a charismatic smile, Peeta pretends to rise from his chair to exit his interview.

"Guess I should leave, then…" he says, earning a chuckle from Snow.

Unlike his co-workers', Peeta's interview has been going off without a single hitch, the New York versus Philadelphia sports being the only road bump he has encountered since the conversation went off on a tangent about the recent Giants loss to the Eagles.

"Peeta, in all seriousness, I have to thank you for your commendable work this year. You successfully helped pioneer the merger, you hit all of your numbers, and you are one of the most personable salesmen Panem has to offer. You know the difference between reality and destructive adolescent fantasies, unlike some people in this company, which is vital."

"If you're asking me how I got to be so awesome, then I don't have an answer for you. Just a lot of luck and saying how I feel," Peeta replies modestly, earning a warm smile from an otherwise stern man.

"And that is what makes you such a natural, my boy," Snow says. "By the way, do you have your quarterly files? Sorry to make you fill things out, it is an HR formality, you see… "

Peeta nods eagerly and digs into his shoulder bag. "It's no trouble. I didn't mind."

But as he hands his paperwork over to Snow, something small, round, and shiny rolls out of the folder and into his lap. The cameras pan over his shoulder to find the pearl he gave Katniss months ago. Laid carefully atop his files is an old certificate from the Victors that she doctored with Sharpie. It reads "Most Potential", a reversal of his usual Victors title. She must have slipped these things into his files when she scanned his and Delly's reports the day before.

Rolling the pearl between his pointer finger and his thumb as a means to calm him down, Peeta smiles when he reads the sticky note attached to both of his good luck gifts.

" _ **Peeta, now it's your turn for the pearl to protect you, though it's doubtful that you'll need it much. Always knew you were meant to be more than just a piece at this company. Don't forget us when you're making it big in New York. – K"**_

He's too busy gazing down at the note to realize that Snow is waving his hand in front of him.

"Peeta?"

"I'm sorry, I just – I zoned out there," Peeta apologizes. "What was the question?"

"I asked where do you see yourself in five, ten, fifteen years? We want the person who takes this position to be in it for the long haul, so where will you be that far down the line?"

This question is the first to give the salesman major pause. Peeta mulls it over for a minute before coming up with an answer, but before revealing that answer, Peeta politely asks that the cameras be turned off.

* * *

Soon after everyone has exited the room, leaving him alone with Snow, Peeta is spotted leaving Corporate with great haste. He takes a few deep breaths before hailing a cab and driving off in the opposite direction of the hotel he came from earlier.

* * *

In Allentown, the crew opts to edit in footage from the campsite a week before en lieu of waiting for Peeta's response about what happened at the Corporate Headquarters. They view the scene, which went unbeknownst to everyone else at the office, in the conference room.

Katniss is sitting by the crick, pulling splinters out of her forest green sweater and tossing them into the running water by her feet. She's so focused on the task at hand that she doesn't flinch when loud footsteps start approaching.

"I'll apologize to the group later, Haymitch, but I'm not really in the mood now," Katniss says with a sigh, picking a particularly large splinter from her shoulder and wincing a little.

She doesn't look up to see that the person coming toward her through the bushes is Peeta until he is standing directly behind her and starts speaking.

"You look like a cactus, Everdeen."

Smiling a little to herself, Katniss rises and faces him. She muses, "I've been told that my personality can be prickly, but thanks."

Peeta laughs a little, shaking his head. After a moment of hesitation, he looks back up at her.

"You know, I left Twelve because I couldn't stand pretending anymore…I couldn't hold you accountable for what happened last year, and you were always going to look at me like I was wounded. I just needed to clear my head, eventually, from all of it."

"I know," Katniss tells him, eyes dancing as she watches him with intensity.

"But now, it just feels like I never really came back. Like my memories are all glossed over and blurred together, or something, and I've gotten better at sorting them out since I have been back, but I'm still having trouble remembering what was real and what was not real."

"Sounds like a pretty tedious game," Katniss says, letting the resonating fact that he is referring to their friendship that was never really just friendship sit for a moment before speaking up. Peeta laughs, jams his hands into his pockets, and looks down at his moonlit reflection in the crick.

"It is."

For a moment, it seems like they're back to the place they left off: stuck in having to hide their feelings for the other one's sake. Stuck in the deafening silence where all they wish they could say lingers in each stolen, longing glance or each pregnant pause.

But then Katniss' voice breaks over the running water.

"…There are worse games to play, Peeta."

* * *

" _No, I don't know what the future holds," Katniss candidly shares with a sad, but authentic smile in her last private interview of the day. With all the talk going around about futures lately, the crew figured it would be nice to check in on the girl who was most trying to figure hers out this past year._

" _I'm optimistic, though. I actually had fun messing around with Cato today, so…you know…"_

 _Cressida asks if she thinks Peeta's interview went well when she catches that something lingers in Katniss' response. Staring off and thinking about a fond memory in her own head, she smiles._

" _I still haven't heard anything, but I don't doubt Peeta will get the job. He's qualified, and smart, and everyone loves him. He's like that dandelion from the story I told you guys about on the first day you got here…he gives people hope, and promise. He's certainly done that for me. Sure, I'll miss him like crazy if he never comes back again, but it'll be ok. Life can be good again, for both of us, just on separate terms. He'll go on to do great things and I…we're friends. And I'm sure we'll always be friends…"_

 _"Anything else you want to say, Katniss?" Cressida asks, clearly prying._

 _She sighs, done frustrating herself with polite answers that hide how she truly feels. With the same newfound voice she had in the forest, she looks up from her lap and speaks more honestly with the cameras._

" _But I can't help but wonder what would have happened if any of it were different," she says quickly, before catching herself and shaking her head. But it's too late, and her feelings are very much out there. With a more carefully crafted response, she goes on, "You know, we just never got the timing right. I shot him down, and then when I was ready he did the same to me…it absolutely sucks, but it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be…"_

" _Katniss?" the familiar sound of Peeta's voice suddenly fills the room as he bursts through the door. Spotting the cameras, which have zoomed over to film him, he backs off only slightly. "Sorry."_

 _Katniss is speechless, ogling him like she cannot believe he is here, as opposed to in New York. Peeta's a little red in the face, having must have immediately bolted here from his interview._

 _Breathlessly, he turns away from the cameras and asks her directly, "Are you free tonight?"_

" _Y-yes," Katniss stammers._

" _Would you wanna get dinner together?"_

 _Nodding so ferociously that her neck looks like it may snap, the only word she is able to squeak out is, "Yeah, together."_

 _Peeta's grin stretches from ear to ear._

" _Great, so…it's a date, then," he tells her before rushing back out._

 _The cameras watch Katniss' entire reaction unfold, showcasing her without any guards or precautions in her words and actions for once. Tears of joy fill her eyes, and the smile that spreads over her face lights up the frame. She shakes her head, as if asking herself if any of what just happened was real, although the footage can certainly prove this for her._

 _Finally, remembering that she is on camera, she looks up and asks, "Sorry, what was the question again?"_

* * *

The next day, the crew members still in New York record Snow's congratulatory call to the new Vice President of Eastern Sales, which is largely still shrouded in mystery at this point.

However, when the other half of the film team spots Gale Hawthorne talking excitedly into his phone in Allentown about the same subject, two and two are quickly put together. The combined footage makes for one seamless conversation.

 _"We're thrilled to have you on board. It'll be good to have another businessman up here in New York."_

"Yes, thank you. I'm very excited to serve this company, President Snow," Gale says, unable to contain his excitement. From where she stands behind him, Madge looks on, her eyebrows knit together as she attempts to puzzle what is being negotiated between Snow and her boyfriend.

"What was that about?" she pries.

"Nothing," Gale says with a shrug. "We're broken up, though."

The scream Madge Undersee emits can be heard around the city.

* * *

 **A/N: Aaaaand that's year two! Hope you enjoyed! For those of you who waited so patiently for that final Katniss/Peeta interaction, thank you and I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned, and please review to let me know what you think/predictions for the future! This is a very busy time of year, but I'll do my best to get a new chapter up soon!**

 **Till next time!  
\- ILoveWicked**


	12. Year Three: Star-Crossed

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Both _The Hunger Games_ and _The Office (US)_ belong to their respective owners. I also do not own any topical references made in this chapter.**

 **Year 3, Episode 1: Star-Crossed**

When the crew returns, well-rested and ready to gather more footage from the cast of characters at District Twelve, things seem to be exactly the way they were when left for the summer.

However, after just a few minutes spent wandering around the office and catching up with its inhabitants, it quickly becomes apparent that things are _not_ really all that they seem.

The first noticeable change appears in the form of the seating arrangements. With Gale having moved up to Corporate in New York at the end of last year, Peeta returns to his old seat, adjacent to Cato. Madge, with long streams of dark mascara running down her pale cheeks, makes a mournful display of her grief every time she passes by the third vacated desk in the clump.

The petite Mayor's daughter's entire body is wracked with quiet tears as she crosses by Gale's empty spot for what feels like the hundredth time in this hour, sniffling rather loudly, undoubtedly a tactic to remind everyone around her of her emotional state. From her spot at reception, Katniss shoots Peeta a worried, pressing look regarding Madge, and the blonde salesman lets out a resigned sigh.

"Hey, Madge," Peeta starts, voice quiet and helpless as he begrudgingly gets her attention in an attempt to fulfill Katniss' request. "Are you feeling any better today—?"

"Shut _up,_ Peeta. I am in pain!" Madge cries, lashing out like a small, fire-breathing dragon that has been set loose in the office. "No one understands me!"

Madge stifles a rather loud sob by jamming a fistful of her cardigan into her mouth before retreating back to Customer Service in the Annex.

"She's going to have to get over it, if you ask me," Cato interjects, not looking up from his work.

"Nobody asked you," Peeta points out. He receives a blurred out middle finger in response.

"Her heart was broken, Cato," Katniss supplies while making copies of the work Madge brought by. She bites her lip, weighing her own experiences in the department of heartbreak. "It's not that easy…"

"Sure it is. The average time it takes for a young person between the ages of twenty-four and thirty to get over a breakup is three months. I looked it up," Cato recites the statistic mirthlessly, looking up at Katniss from under his reading glasses.

Katniss huffs. "Have you considered that maybe some people are different? Not everyone fits into your little fact boxes."

Cato shrugs. "It's simply the norm for someone in her age range. She broke up with just a person, and _Gale Hawthorne_ at that. He made her weak, anyway, and soon she'll start to realize that she is stronger on her own than when she was depending on someone else. It's not like she lost a championship. Or a job."

He smirks wickedly as his glance drifts over to his sworn nemesis.

"How long do you think it took Delly to get over you, Lover Boy? Given _you're_ what she lost out on, my guess is…hmm…approximately a week and half." Cato chuckles, impressed with himself. "Huh. I made a joke. I guess humor isn't so hard to understand after all."

And just like that, Peeta delivers a look to the cameras as if to say that some things—like Cato's constant rivalry with Peeta—will never change.

The camera pans up to reveal that another empty desk next to Finnick has been cleared out entirely.

* * *

" _Ah yes, the scoop on the summer's happenings!" Caesar, who the crew called in specifically for his well-known arsenal of gossip, announces while clapping his hands together gaily. "I thought you'd_ never _ask! Whatever it is you're doing at home, stop! Because you're going to want to hear this…"_

 _He leans in, new fuchsia-colored eyebrows raised in amusement, and launches into what he deems is the hottest re-cap._

" _Peeta Mellark ended his relationship with Delly Cartwright quite hastily after the interviews in New York. Things were rather uncomfortable when she returned from the city and claimed that she had no intention of leaving behind all her hard work just for one man. However, the next day, all of her belongings had vanished. We learned a few weeks later that she had asked to be transferred to District Two."_

 _For dramatic flair, Caesar lowers his voice and draws out the next sentences like incantations._

" _Now, here is where it starts to get fishy. Peeta Mellark claims whenever I ask him that he is single and looking. Katniss Everdeen says that she went out to dinner with him to talk him through his breakup with Delly, and that she is happy to be good friends again. But I personally do not believe it for a second."_

 _He is at the edge of his seat, brought there by his own musings. "They_ must _be together! Dating in secret! No one can be that happy just being friends. They have the makings of the greatest love story of all time – two young people choosing to give everything up to be with each other…and then, so taciturn all the sudden!? It's enough that we've had to share in their agony all these years, we—and they, of course—deserve joy!"_

 _Caesar is now biting his finger nails with anticipation and bated breath as a result of his investment in his co-workers' love lives._

" _I even came up with a spectacular couple name for them this summer: Peeniss!"_

* * *

" _I haven't the slightest idea, I'm afraid," Beetee deducts in regards to 'Peeniss' rumors that have been flying around the office, mainly due to Caesar, this entire summer._

 _He rubs the smudges on his glasses lenses with a cloth and sighs. "I appreciate you coming to me with this inquiry. I may be a genius, but I am certainly not a master of love by any means. I truly have no way of knowing for sure if they are together. They have both been in remarkably good moods, but show no signs of intimacy. It could be other things…"_

 _Behind him, someone scoffs incredulously. The camera zooms out to see Caesar's bright pink head poking through a plant outside the conference room where Beetee's private interview is being held, obviously having listened in on the whole thing and not liking what he heard._

* * *

Hours later, Haymitch stumbles out of his office, bleary-eyed and sporting only a worn t-shirt and pair of flimsy pajama bottoms. In his hands, he clutches a toothbrush and toothpaste. He is about to make his way to the bathroom when he spots the cameras and freezes.

The cameras volley between Haymitch and his ogling co-workers for a moment before the crew follows Haymitch into the break room.

* * *

" _No, I'm not sleeping here overnight again, if that's what you're thinking," Haymitch clears that up before he can even sit down for a private interview. Frothy toothpaste still sticks to the corners of his lips._

" _I've just been taking naps here a lot, lately. Alma is going through a transitional phase in her life, as you know, and that means she's been in need of someone to talk to and strategize with…you know, in more ways than one."_

 _He winks naughtily, letting the crew know, despite having never asked for it, that his sex life is still very much intact._

" _But that means I get very little sleep. Alma won't let me sleep, no matter how much I beg to go to bed, until she is tired…so I get here early and sleep till around noon, which is when she usually wakes up, anyway, so we get to spend my lunch hour talking some more."_

 _He suddenly rips the fuzzy blanket he's been wrapping around himself off, complaining about the heat._

" _She's, uh, also set me back a pretty penny. Has my wallet with her during the day while I'm at work so I don't spend it on liquor…yet she can spend the money on pant suits…Anyway, she says sobering up will be good for me and will give us both some clarity. Frankly, I think that's bull, but whatever makes her happy."_

 _He looks up, strung out from the withdrawal symptoms he is clearly undergoing as well as the toll his second round of a relationship with Alma is taking on him. It's clear that he's hanging on by a thread, because a thread is all she will give him. Cressida, concern in her voice, steps over the line as a documentary filmmaker asks if they can do anything for Haymitch, the subject._

" _Nah, don't worry about me, Tattoo-Head. I'll be fine," Haymitch claims, dismissively waving his hand as he reaches into what was formerly his liquor stash. He pulls out a large water bottle and takes several long gulps. "I've got my water. Close your eyes hard enough and it tastes the same."_

 _Another bout of feverish chills wracks his body, and Haymitch hastily gets up to turn on a space heater that has been situated at his feet._

" _Is it cold in here, or is it just me? Damn climate change…"_

* * *

Beetee and Wiress, the office's cheaper alternative to an IT crew, fiddles over Katniss' computer when she informs them that there's a bug in it.

"Generally, it isn't a good idea to click on any pop-ups or internet offers. Our firewalls are extremely weak, and just about anything can get through them," Beetee says as he meticulously clicks and stares into the screen, moving so swiftly that no one can keep up.

"Our security is really that bad?" Peeta, brow furrowing in concern, asks.

Wiress giggles, presumably at her own inside joke, and Beetee knowingly joins in. The two of them are in stitches over what apparently no one else in the office was already aware of.

"They may as well have a sign in here saying, 'HACK ME'," Wiress chokes through her laughter.

"I ought to change that to my desktop password," Beetee quips, causing Wiress to laugh even more.

Cato, rolling his eyes, loudly slams his stack of files down on his desk. "Quit laughing, Geek Squad. You're distracting everyone else who is actually hard at work."

From the desk behind Cato, Cinna snorts before continuing to thumb through his fashion magazine.

"What was the offer for, Katniss?" Wiress inquires, stepping away from where she was once leaning over Beetee's shoulder.

Leaning beside Peeta on the other end of her desk, Katniss worries her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Uh," she mutters, gray eyes immediately plummeting to the floor. "A…celebrity sex tape."

Peeta's stunned laugh tumbles from his lips, so loudly that everyone around them startles. Caesar, looking on from behind another plant, flashes a shiny-toothed grin at the cameras.

"Everdeen, no way."

"I was curious," Katniss defensively whispers, unable to contain her grin as a result of Peeta's untamable laughter at her expense. "It all happened so fast!"

"And here I was thinking you were so _pure,"_ Peeta says, shaking his head. "You never fail to amaze me, Everdeen."

Katniss rolls her eyes jokingly, but the focus is on Caesar, who does an odd, jerky dance behind the plants.

"So, what are you both doing this weekend?" Beetee, catching Caesar's victory lap around accounting out of the corner of his eye, asks.

"I'm thinking about going to this flea market at the drive-in across from the Hob on Sunday," Katniss answers, examining her chipped fingernail polish nonchalantly. Peeta nods with friendly interest.

"Sounds like fun. I'm going mountain-biking with my brother on Sunday."

"Ooh, Bran or Wheaton?"

"Bran. Wheat would kill himself if he tried anything remotely athletic."

As this platonic conversation drones on, the cameras catch Beetee's gaze flitting up from the reception computer screen, where Caesar now glowers at the pair.

Suddenly, there is a long beep, followed by the sounds of all of the computers shutting down. The gentle whir of the copier stops in mid-print. This is followed by the lights flickering off. Everyone tries to reboot their equipment, but there is no such luck.

"The power's out," Finnick states the obvious from his desk. "And I was just about to look into that sex tape…"

"Power's out!" Haymitch declares as he bursts from his office. He is followed by a blast of warm air that hits Peeta and Cato directly.

Clove, rubbing her temples to keep calm, sighs, "Yes, we're aware."

"I received a text from Boggs saying that the rest of the building, including the warehouse, still has power," Effie says as her expensive heels clack into the main office. Her eyes linger over Haymitch's office as she adds, "I wonder who could have possibly caused this? Certainly not the live-in manager…"

"Undo that knot your knickers are in, Princess," the boss snaps. "Someone fix this problem before lunch, or else I'm in trouble—and so are all of you."

He retreats back into his office, slamming the door as he goes.

"I liked him better drunk," Effie says with thinly-veiled annoyance.

"Well, I have a sales report to send to a client in thirty-minutes," Cinna announces, making clear that he has no intention of moving from the spot he sits in by his blank monitor. "Who's gonna turn our computers back on?"

When no one seems to be coming to the office's rescue anytime soon, Johanna makes a big show of her martyrdom and rises from her place in the back of the office.

"Fine, I'll go check the power converter. But only because I like to watch the warehouse workers lift boxes," she says, quickly grabbing a tool box from the supply cabinet and hurrying out of the front door.

"Do any of you find it strange that we work for a coal-powered electric company and we don't use coal for the building's electricity?" Finnick asks, earning several boo's, flung paper balls, and grunts for him to shut up.

* * *

 _Inside his office, the crew finds Haymitch desperately muttering to himself about his lunch with Alma that will be missed at noon._

" _God, I am so tired," Haymitch mutters, sweat pooling at his forehead and teeth chattering wildly. The blanket he wears is pulled even tighter around his shivering frame. He grabs the Brita water pitcher he now has in place of his white liquor bottles and glares at the device with distain._

" _You ain't gonna wake me up, water," he snarls at the clear liquid. "If you were tequila, I wouldn't be having this problem."_

 _In an angry bout of rage, he takes the Brita, and prying his window open, pours the water out onto the parking lot below._

 _The sounds of someone screaming and of what may be fireworks going off below him make him stop. The crew rushes over to pan down to the source of the sound. Johanna Mason, who had her hands buried deep in the wires of the power box directly below Haymitch's stream of dumped water, screams various expletives that have to be bleeped out. Her arms and legs thrash as sparks fly from the box that her hand is still trapped in. Patches of her hair have been seared while her skin is bright red._

 _This electrical surge that has left Johanna in searing pain causes the circuitry to groan, and all of the lights come back on, as well as Haymitch's extra office appliances. While everyone outside cheers, Haymitch, pale as a ghost, stares down at disbelief at the employee he has just electrocuted.  
_

* * *

An hour later, with everyone diligently back to work and making up for the lost time with the power outage, Haymitch hastily barrels into the office like a racehorse wearing blinders. He walks around aimlessly for a moment, still looking stunned (as if _he_ were the one to be shocked earlier), before clearing his throat.

"Attention, everyone. I have some terrible news. Johanna was electrocuted."

Many people, eyes wide with shock, rise from their seats with hysteria and confusion surrounding Johanna's incident. Even Cinna looks concerned as he asks what happened.

"It happened just now, with the power box. I took her to the ER, and the doctors did everything they could to try to save her life, and it was just torture waiting for the news…"

"Is she okay?" Katniss, hands at her quivering lips, bravely asks on behalf of everyone. The mood Haymitch has set seems to imply to everyone that their snarky co-worker has suffered dire consequences.

"Of course not!" Madge wails, tears soaking the screen of the scanner she is using and bleeding into the ink of her document. "She's dead, just like my relationship with Gale! 2017 is worse than 2016!"

Madge pushes past her co-workers, sobbing wildly as she runs to the bathroom to have the rest of her tantrum in private.

Haymitch, however, doesn't seem to think his phrasing was at all confusing.

"Yeah, no, don't be so dramatic, guys…Johanna's fine. She was aggressively taunting a male nurse when I left her."

Cinna's brow furrows in a deep, furious scowl. "Why not lead with that information, then, you fool? Why would you phrase it like that?"

"So, she's going to be okay?" Beetee inquires earnestly.

"Yeah, dummies. She's got some minor bruising and the doctors had to shave her head because her hair looked so hideous with half of it burned off. They're keeping her a couple of nights to monitor her heart," Haymitch informs them. "None of you were this concerned when I thought I had meningitis."

"Because it was _laryngitis_ and you got the word confused for what would have been a much worse condition," Peeta mutters, half to the cameras.

"Well, thank goodness you were there for Johanna," Wiress says, hand still clutching her chest.

Haymitch pauses, runs his hands nervously through his stringy hair, and nods.

"Yup."

"Did you see what happened?" Finnick pipes up. "She might sue the company. She has every right to, if you ask me. My family's gotten practically everything we own from suing people."

Cato shakes his head. "No. We talk to Jackson, check the security tapes, and see if there are any loopholes in the argument first. Then, she sues the company."

"Nobody's suing anyone, okay? I was able to be on the scene so quickly because I was pouring water out of the Brita filter and it landed on the power box accidentally while she was fixing it," Haymitch admits slowly.

There is a long, shocked silence that goes on even longer than when the news of Johanna's electric shock first hit. Everyones expression ranges from somewhere between disappointed, horrified, and outraged.

Then, Katniss groans, "Oh, Haymitch…"

* * *

"Soldier Hawthorne! This is your cadet, reporting for duty!" Haymitch jokes into his intercom.

Behind him, Cato attempts to play with a hacky sack and keeps knocking things over in the background. From the other end of the conversation, where Gale resides in New York, a sharp exhalation can be heard.

 _"Haymitch, what can I do for you today?"_

"I need something for my gang, to win their affections back and quell all the…hate that's going on here."

"I thought you said haters are your motivators, Haymitch" Cato quips, only to be jammed in the stomach by the sudden backward rolling of Haymitch's chair.

"Shut up, Idiot."

 _"What do you mean, 'win their affections back', Haymitch? What happened?"_ Gale's terse, deep voice asks.

"Uh, I electrocuted Johanna today."

Gale's _"WHAT?"_ is so loud that it causes Cato's hacky sack to fly across the room.

 _"Was this an accident?"_

"Yeah, was it?" Cato asks, winking to his boss. He lowers his voice and whispers conspiratorially, "Was she talking back? Underperforming? Did she withhold information from you?"

Slowly, with an intense stare, Cato moves dangerously close to his boss' face. "You can tell me", Cato whisper-mutters, with a knowing glint in his eye that seems to suggest that Cato thinks frying Johanna was a correct, and very purposeful move, on the regional manager's behalf. Haymitch kicks Cato out of the room.

"Of course, it was an accident, Gale. But she's recovering nicely at the hospital, with very minor nerve damage, and—"

 _"Was this on company property?"_

"Yeah, and technically with company property, since it was our Brita pitcher and our power box that was involved in the…barbeque. So, double Jeopardy. We're fine."

 _"That's…that's not how Jeopardy works."_

"Oh, sorry. What is: we're fine."

The next few minutes are spent with Gale, now Haymitch's superior, chewing the older man out for his negligence and stupidity. The cameras find it best to leave them to it for a moment.

* * *

 _Castor's leg of the crew finds themselves back in New York to interview Gale Hawthorne and find out what exactly led him to winning this position over everyone else._

 _In the time since everyone last saw Gale Hawthorne, he has undergone a huge makeover. One that seems to coincide with his newfound ego boost. His suit is fitted and stylish, showing signs of having been very expensive. Unlike his clean-shaven look in District Twelve, he now sports a stubbly beard._

" _I oversee 915 out of 10,000 employees in Panem now. It's funny, everyone around here calls me a Wunderkind, but I don't see it that way. I guess hard work just pays off. Even though I never made a sale while in Twelve, having a business degree was enough for Snow."_

 _He leans back in his plush leather chair, letting the cameras get a better view of his high-tech, top floor Corporate office._

" _Now that I'm here, I'm going to completely revolutionize Panem."_

* * *

Katniss comes around to the accountants with a large envelope. She explains that she is collecting money from everyone to chip in for some flowers for Johanna.

"Has _Peeta_ chipped in yet?" Caesar asks, clearly fishing for a reaction. Katniss' face remains unchanged.

"No, I haven't gotten around to him yet. So far it's me, Wiress, Finnick, and Cinna."

"I'm sure you will ask him," Caesar says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"Yeah, I plan to…both of our cars can take three people," Katniss slowly says, perturbed by Caesar's animated features.

Beetee chides him for failing to be subtle with an eyeroll while Katniss turns to ask Clove if she's coming.

Clove shakes her head solemnly. "I can't go. My lizard Glimmer is sick, and I have to make sure she has her medicine, that I massage her molting skin, that she has someone to eat with…"

"Can't the other lizards do that?" Katniss asks, trying her best not to sound judgmental. Clove looks like she takes major offense anyway.

"There's bad blood. Lizards are cliquey… Besides, I had to quarantine her anyway to avoid the spread of the diseases…"

"As chairwoman of the CAREERS, I really think you should be doing this instead of me," Katniss cuts in. "It is your job, after all."

Clove huffs, and then hastily grabs the envelope from the receptionist. It is a low blow, using work, the one thing that overrides Clove's personal life with her lizards, as a strategy, but the smaller woman takes the bait.

"Fine."

"I can look after the lizard," Cato interjects, clumsily falling over his chair as he gallantly attempts to come to his lady's rescue. "Hospitals make me feel defeated, so I won't be attending. Besides, I'm still not entirely sure Johanna isn't just trying to get worker's comp from this, so I'd like to have more time to do my research."

Clove shoots him a look of loving gratitude before beckoning him over to describe in great detail how to care for Glimmer.

"Ok, so first you'll need to make sure that the temperature and humidity of the cage are at exactly these levels I have indicated, circled, and highlighted in orange. It is very important that her enclosure vitals are matching her vitals. Then, you'll have to rub her teeth down with hydrogen peroxide swabs to prevent tooth rot. Then, her feeding tube must be injected with four milliliters of solution, which you'll find labeled with green tape in the fridge, but first, you have to make sure it's on the same vitals as the cage temperature, and that should take about fifteen minutes…oh, and then there is a lotion for the dry patches on her skin, which are right around her anus and under her arms, so you'll need to generously apply that…"

While Clove yammers on, Cato looks increasingly bored and annoyed with his task.

* * *

"Okay, so we can get a card at the hospital and sign it outside of Johanna's room," Katniss explains to everyone attending the visit for their co-worker. Since her back is turned to the doorway, she doesn't see Haymitch entering, head bowed. "Sales people can go later in the day, and hourly workers can go during lunch? Sound good?"

"Hey, guys, I've been thinking…" Haymitch pipes up.

"That's unusual," Beetee deadpans, much to Wiress' amusement.

Now forced to be sober, Haymitch can no longer selectively ignore the things people have to say about him, and it's clear that he is very agitated.

"I was thinking I could also drive some people," Haymitch finishes, gritting his teeth. "My car's been a little wacky, though, so I may need someone's help jump-starting it…"

"You have got to be kidding me," Cinna grumbles. "Do you _hear_ yourself right now?"

"Everyone who wasn't touching the power box was _fine,_ Cinna!" Haymitch bursts out. "You know what, I'm sorry I'm flawed! I'm sorry I vomit in the shower at night, and I'm sorry I spend too much time volunteering, and I'm sorry that _occasionally_ , I electrocute people. So sue me—no, don't sue me, that's the opposite of the point I'm trying to make."

Rubbing his red-rimmed eyes, Haymitch looks at the clock and impulsively makes a last-minute decision that will hopefully get everyone back in his good graces.

"We should all go as a group together. At twelve. To show solidarity," Haymitch announces.

Katniss wearily also takes a look at the clock, which is dangerously close to noontime, the same time in which Alma will be waking up and expecting a phone call from Haymitch.

"Are you sure, Haymitch? That seems…risky…"

"You all are not the priority today. _Johanna_ is the priority today," the regional manager snaps. "See you all at twelve."

* * *

" _No, it'll be fine," Haymitch says in a private interview by his car, which he has enlisted Boggs and Homes to try jumpstarting. His 'We Can't Stop' ringtone only makes it through about one line before he silences the call, ignoring Alma. "She'll understand that this is something I have to do."_

 _In that moment, Boggs makes a big show of screaming and flailing his arms. Homes laughs while Haymitch spins around worriedly. He is at Boggs' side, screaming about needing an EDA (AED), until Boggs breaks into fits of giggles._

" _Don't joke about that; it's not funny."_

" _Yes it is. You burnt your own employee," Boggs says, wiping a humored tear from under his eye._

* * *

When Johanna wakes from what Madge cries is a "coma", she is greeted by nearly all of her co-workers at the foot of her bed, currently debating on whether she looks terrible or like an angel. She groans.

"Why are you all here? At the same time?" she mutters sleepily. She runs her hands through the short buzz cut on her head and moans, "I forgot my head was shaved."

"It looks…good," Finnick lies with the world's worst poker face. Johanna, however, seems to take this as a compliment and winks at him. Finnick hides behind Madge, who's face seems to say she disagrees with Finnick's lie.

Haymitch steps forward, with a bunch of balloons tangled together, and begins to tie the strings to her IV. The tube promptly pops out of the vein it had been attached to a needle in Johanna's hand, and several people groan.

"That's gross. I'll get the nurse to put that back in…"

"No, don't bother the nurse," Johanna says to Haymitch, "Just find a vein and stick that needle in my elbow. I'll get better access to the painkillers that way."

"Oh, really?" Sae says, popping out of the group huddle from seemingly nowhere. It becomes clear that she hitched a ride with none of the designated drivers for this trip, and it is unclear how she even arrived on the scene. "What kind of painkillers? Something you can possibly smuggle out of here? Codine? Vicodin? Percocet? Oxycontin?"

"It's morphine," Johanna deadpans, rolling up the sleeve of her hospital gown. "And it _was_ helping with the unbearable pain I was in, so Haymitch, if you don't mind doing the honors…"

Haymitch whines that he's going to be sick and is attempting to find a prominent vein on Johanna's bruised arm while she clenches her fist, much to everyone's protest.

* * *

 _"I don't even need to call my nurse sister to know all of this is probably illegal_ ," _Katniss says in a private interview outside of the hospital room._

* * *

The nurse finally comes in, and with a disapproving look at Haymitch, secures the IV back in place. Johanna waits for a few moments, and then sinks back into her pillow with a contented sigh as the drugs seem to be taking their effect again.

"Thank you all for coming to see me," Johanna, now in a morphine-induced haze, slurs. "I'll see you all at the office."

Everyone says their farewells and is halfway out the door when Haymitch speaks up.

"Wait, you know what would be fun? If Johanna here forgave me in front of everyone."

Still with her wits about her, Johanna scoffs, "No way in hell am I doing that. You almost killed me. You are, truly, the worst boss ever."

Haymitch laughs nervously.

"You don't mean that. You're just being Johanna and joking around. Now, let's laugh this off together and you can give me a big hug…"

Johanna remains plastered against her mountain of pillows, glaring at the older man who is begging for her forgiveness.

"No."

"Knock it off with the theatrics. You love us, JoJo. You love me."

Johanna gazes around the room, at each uncomfortable face that watches her with their boss, and dismisses each of them with an "I love you."

Once everyone is gone, she shrugs, "Look at that. There's no one left that I love."

Haymitch huffs. "You know what, Stubborn, fine. I don't need to be loved, anyway. Here, let me at least be the bigger person and give you some water…"

He attempts to bring the Styrofoam cup up to Johanna's unmoving lips, but instead, he trips on another cord and spills the water down her front. Experiencing a flashback from the last time water was poured on her, Johanna screams and thrashes in her bed. All of her various tubes pop out and the monitors by her bedside beep uncontrollably. A flurry of nurses arrive and shove Haymitch out of the room.

* * *

" _I couldn't tell you what just happened, honestly. It all kind of blurs together for me," Johanna, alone in her hospital bed with only the crew as company, explains moments later when asked for a comment._

 _She smiles dopily and flicks the IV bag containing her morphine._

" _This stuff is great," she tells the cameras, her gaze unfocused and her giggles uncontrollable. "I feel great. Where can I buy this stuff over the counter?"_

* * *

When everyone returns from their trip to the hospital, Cato is whittling some kind of wooden spear at his desk with a carving knife. Clove, an expectant smile on her face, shuffles up to him.

"Were there any problems?"

Cato gazes up from his work only momentarily. "Yeah, you left the TV on. And your lizard is dead."

Clove's face turns a ghastly shade of white.

"What?!"

"Yeah, Glitter, the sick one, right? She's dead."

"It's _Glimmer_. Because her pale pink skin gives off a glow when she stands in the right path of sunlight! And now she's…" Clove corrects him, tears pooling in her dark eyes. She blinks a few times, letting them spill over onto her cheeks. It is the most vulnerable the cameras have ever seen her. "How did…how did she look when you found her?"

"Dead," Cato tactlessly replies. Upon reading the signals of immense sadness on his girlfriend's pinched face, he awkwardly reaches a hand out and pats her shoulder. "Pook—Clove, it's going to be okay. She's in a better place. Which is in a hole in your backyard under a rather dangerous-looking bee's nest that may have descended upon her carcass as soon as I threw it out there."

In that moment, Clove bursts into tears. She dodges Cato's touch and turns to cry in Katniss' unsuspecting arms. The receptionist looks helplessly at the cameras as she tries calming Clove down.

Haymitch, oddly enough, takes this hit just as hard and cries in the arms of Finnick. This prompts Madge to cry, and soon, nearly half the office is mourning the loss of the dead lizard.

"God, between the power going out because of the porn, and then Johanna's accident, and now this? That's three terrible things, guys," Haymitch wails. "This office is cursed. Which of you recently spit on an ancient burial ground. Trinket?"

"No, actually I've recently run into some good luck," the HR rep replies, cautiously eyeing those sobbing around her. "I won a raffle at my hair salon, and I get free dye jobs for the next six months."

While some congratulate her, Haymitch silences the office with a sarcastic slow clap.

"So our misfortune is your happiness then, huh? No wonder your hair's always changing. I knew you had to be involved in some kind of Satanic cult," Haymitch spits at the HR rep. "You're a Wiccan, aren't you, Trinket?"

Effie, lips pursed, shakes her brightly-colored head.

"I'm Episcopalian, and religion is hardly an appropriate topic to be discussing at work, Haymitch…"

"Shut up, you Easter Egg from Hell!" His cell phone goes off again, and he jams his hand into his pockets to silence it. "You spend your whole life trying to make something of yourself, and then you spill water on one person and electrocute them…one of the slightly less popular ones, too…God is dead."

"If there was a God, Gale and I would be married by now," Madge whines, aggressively blowing her nose into a tissue that she hands off to Beetee once she's done.

Clove, still sobbing into Katniss' shirt and leaving an uncomfortable wet mark on her chest, looks up and wonders aloud, "How could this have happened to Glimmer? I thought she had more time. There was so much she still had to accomplish before she left this earth."

"It's only a lizard," Cato mutters.

"You never – you don't like them," Clove hisses, trying to keep their personal matters out of this public moment.

"Because any reptile smaller than a crocodile is essentially useless to the food chain. A cat could kill mice and crickets just fine," Cato counters, looking up at last from his whittling project. "Lizards don't provide milk or clothing or meat."

Clove suddenly stiffens in Katniss' arms. She stands, spine straight and tall, and squares off to look Cato straight in the eye, which she is able to do since he is seated.

"I have this suspicion, Cato, and I hope and pray that I am wrong, that you're not telling me something. I will send Glimmer's body to the vet for an autopsy and find out what her exact cause of death was…"

Cato's expression hardens, and he can suddenly look anywhere but at Clove. Slowly, he puts the knife down on his desk, which appears to have blood on it when the cameras zoom in and focus on the weapon.

"I am the son of a mason, Clove. I spent my childhood in a factory, building, setting, and making things with stone, where I was taught that only the strongest can survive. A weak foundation can have catastrophic consequences. That lizard was barely hanging on to its little quality of life when I found her, so I did what city-folk don't have the stomach to do."

Clove's eyes go wide as saucers. She immediately descends upon Cato and punches him with her small, but mighty fists. Cato yells out in pain.

"You did kill her! How could you do such a horrible thing?"

"I thought I was helping you! I expected a hug," Cato laments. "I took care of Glitter the only way I knew how. I couldn't stand by and mindlessly chip away at her foundation like that…but putting my knife in her? That, I could still do."

He searches her for any signs of letting up and giving in to his apology, but Clove remains steadfast in the silent tears that roll down her cheeks. Reaching for her hand, he pleads, "Clove, please, stay with me…let's talk…"

She slaps him away and makes a mad dash for the bathroom.

"Don't touch me, Cato!" she shrieks when the brutish salesman tries reaching out to her. "I never want to see you again!"

It seems trivial to those who are unaware of their relationship, but Clove's scorn speaks volumes. When Madge cries out about Gale again and follows Clove to the bathroom, she bumps into Cato's chair, but the brute remains unmoving, frozen in a state of paralyzing shock. Now that he is on the other end of heartbreak, he seems to be more connected with Madge Undersee than he previously thought.

"Alright, Cato," Haymitch speaks up, clearly pleased with himself for no longer being the office bad guy. "Since it appears you need a lesson in apathy, why don't you go and pay Johanna some respects at the hospital?"

Peeta looks into the camera, nose scrunched. "He was _so close_ to empathy that time."

Cato, trying to cover up the sudden tears that have sprung up in his eyes, snorts, "I don't respect her, but I will go."

* * *

"All I'm saying is that there's a lot of potential energy going to waste here," Cato explains to the cameras as he gestures at Johanna's sleeping form. "With the amount of power we're using to keep Mason alive, we could provide enough power to a small replica of a dam for at least two days."

Johanna yawns, awakening from a peaceful sleep. She startles when she sees Cato, and the monitor at her bedside beeps dramatically as her heart rate spikes.

"God, no more of this freak show, please," Johanna whines, attempting to roll away from Cato. The salesman merely rounds the bed to be face to face with Johanna on the other side. "Did Haymitch send you?"

She groans when Cato replies with an affirming nod.

"Just say the word, and I can pull the plug," Cato tells her, almost too earnestly. It becomes pretty clear how easy it must have been for him to put Clove's lizard down. Johanna's eyes grow wide.

"No! Don't pull anything, Idiot!"

Just then, a young man in scrubs rushes into the hospital room. Johanna curses to herself and hides her head under the covers.

"Miss Mason, I'm afraid I'm going to have to have a discussion with you," the man says, a disturbed look in his eyes.

"Are you a male nurse? Because if so, that makes anything you have to say invalid," Cato butts in. The man blinks at him incredulously. Cato refuses to back down from the small staring match.

"Cato, just let the male nurse say all he wants to say," Johanna says begrudgingly. She takes advantage of the camera crew being in the room and looks directly into Pollux's lens when she adds, "But I would also like to point out that the male nurse told me like twenty times that I was absolutely safe and I don't feel that way right now!"

Spotting the cameras, the male nurse coughs uncomfortably.

"Uh, we're going to have to ask you to please leave the room. Doctor-Patient confidentiality…"

"But you're just a male nurse," Cato interjects again.

The nurse looks pointedly at Cressida and adds, "Please take this man with you."

* * *

 _Cato has his ear pressed to the door, listening to what sounds like a very heated conversation between Johanna and several members of the staff. He hears something that startles him and gasps. Quickly, he grabs his cell phone and calls a number that is on speed-dial._

" _Haymitch, it's Cato. I'm still at the hospital. Turns out Johanna has been stealing morphine from other patients…" he looks into the camera with a smug grin. "Yeah but that's not even the worst part. She is refusing to take a shower. She claims she's traumatized."_

 _Cato scoffs as he hears Johanna shriek from inside the hospital room, as if he is calling her on her bluff._

" _Playing weak so she can get the goods," Cato whispers to the cameras like the informant he is. "Actually not a bad move."_

 _From the phone, Cato's mic picks up Haymitch shouting at Cato to fill him in on what's happening now. Cato presses his other ear up to the door again, and looks slightly taken aback by this news._

" _She's also anemic, apparently. Iron deficiency. It's mild, but they want to give her a blood transfusion while she's staying in the hospital. She says fine. She still won't shower, though. Gross. Hey, do you want me to pick us up some dinner? We can stay late at the office, catch up…? Haymitch?"_

 _The dial tone on the other end of the line signals that Haymitch has other dinner plans. Closing his phone and clipping it back onto his belt, Cato shrugs._

" _Must be bad reception where he is."_

* * *

"Attention, Jerk Faces and Ass Hats," Haymitch shouts from his office desk chair to everyone in the main office after hanging up on Cato. Castor and the film crew quickly follow the manager as he strides proudly into the other room.

"I know everyone's pissed off at me for almost barbequing Johanna today, but guess what? My sending her to the hospital saved her life. Johanna has iron deficit – shoot, what's it called?" he quickly glances down at what he scribbled on his hand before continuing with his prideful speech. "Iron deficient anemia! And she needs a blood transfusion! Which is way worse than a tiny bit of nerve damage and a couple of shocks from a defibrillator, if you ask me! So, turns out I actually saved her life. Lives were saved today, people! We should rejoice!"

During this proclamation, the cameras catch snippets of everyone's confused, shocked, and downright perturbed faces. Clove merely bursts into tears from her place standing at her desk.

"But is saving one life enough?" When it becomes clear that the rhetorical nature of the question is warranting no responses, Haymitch sighs, "No, it's not. We have to do something more. Something to prevent more victims from falling to iron anemone."

"Aren't some cases of anemia relatively curable? At least if it's found earlier and treated properly?" Beetee inquires, earning the nods of several of his officemates. Haymitch rolls his eyes.

"Hey, Brainiac, try to look into the part of your big brain that feels, okay? This disease kills one point six in 100,000 people!" Haymitch fires.

Beetee's tongue remains in his cheek for about one point six seconds after this stat is released from his boss' mouth. "That mortality rate is remarkably low…"

"Shut your big smart mouth, Volts! Okay, so it's curable. Who knew that?"

About half the office raises their hands. The rest remain either unsure or have stopped listening.

"See? Not everyone knew that, Beetee, so we ought to let people know. Who has some ideas for ways we can raise awareness for the cure?"

* * *

" _Yes, I have an iron deficiency as well," Cinna explains in a private interview while Haymitch continues to poll the group. "I did a lot of hard drugs when I was younger and going on tours with my band, and developed an ulcer coincidentally when I started working here…"_

 _He holds up a little orange bottle and rattles it around._

" _I take one to two of these a day, and I am fine. Thank goodness I have a qualified doctor who can help me raise awareness for my condition," he sarcastically deadpans._

* * *

"Ooh, we could have a fundraiser!" Wiress pipes up. Haymitch points at the saleswoman, beaming.

"Great initiative, Nuts!" Whacking Peeta in the back of the head, he goes on, "Mellark, what's the big fundraiser you donate to all the time? The one you participated in when you were in college that you never shut up about?"

"Oh, yeah, THON," Peeta, rubbing the back of his head, answers while uncomfortably looking up into the camera, "It's a forty-six hour dance marathon—I danced in it my junior year at Penn State—"

"– And it changed your life, we know," Madge mocks him. "God Peeta, must you always draw attention to yourself? Some of us in this office are trying to _mourn_."

Clove sniffles, "Your breakup and my beloved Glimmer dying are not the same thing."

"Okay, the only thing _anyone_ should be mourning in this office is the amount of iron Johanna loses every month when she gets her period," Haymitch chimes in.

"I knew females were the inferior sex," Cato mutters to himself. "Their bodies are in a constant cycle of acting against them."

"Then how do you explain how your peanut brain acted against you when you killed my lizard, Cato?" Clove, who of course heard him, cuts in.

Haymitch, having had enough of the pair's bickering, shouts, "Fundraiser, people! What do we do to raise awareness for the iron deficient!?"

"A Dance-a-Thon sounds like wild fun!" Caesar squeals, clapping his hands wildly together. Wiress and Haymitch join in with sounds of agreement.

Peeta's smile is hard-pressed when he reminds everyone again, "Yeah, while it was a fun, it was also a highly rewarding experience. The big takeaway from the event is that it raises huge amounts of money for kids with cancer…which is still something that doesn't have a cure yet, unlike iron deficiency, so…"

"Pssh, Penn State," Finnick scoffs. "At Yale we raised money for Boys with Boats, which gave back to up-and-coming men who had to pay for their own sailboats growing up. My fraternity brothers and I had a Win-a-Date auction, which may seem like less work for someone who pranced around for two days like a wussy, but it was no walk in the park taking Alicia Silverlake, the second hottest girl in Delta Phi Iota, out to a seafood dinner."

Peeta blinks at Finnick, who is proudly man-spreading in his desk chair.

"It's not a competition…"

Finnick shakes his head, barely listening to Peeta. "It would never work here, any way. With Gale gone, the number of single, attractive bachelors around here is staggeringly low."

"Yeah, that won't work, since our highest seller is back off the market," Haymitch, referring to himself, declares. "So, Dance Marathon is our winner! We'll call it IRON THON!"

"Do not call it that," Peeta insists.

"The title is a work in progress!" Haymitch happily obliges. "Go home, everyone, and rest up. Because tomorrow, you're dancing your pants off for the anemics. Celebrate life, everyone. It is short."

Clove and Madge, in an uncharacteristic turn for both, sob in each other's arms again to express their grief.

* * *

" _I actually dance all the time. Tip-toeing around Corporate is essentially a ballet. I'm break-dancing when I break all the rules. Every day at five I waltz out these doors and every morning I sashay back in. The Dance-Marathon at Penn State is child's play, and this is the adult world. That's why we're going to dance for two extra hours."_

 _Haymitch grins as he begins toying with Microsoft Word graphics._

" _It's what Johanna, who I'm pretty sure was doing a little bit of the robot when I electrocuted her accidentally, would want."_

* * *

As people leave for the day, Caesar grabs the crew and instructs them out to the parking lot. While he crouches in the driver's seat of his bright yellow Porsche, the colorful man narrates the happenings of his favorite speculated couple to Cressida and Pollux.

"Here comes Peeta Mellark, looking dapper as ever. Plus, note the pep in his step. He's getting into his car, he turned it on…is he going to wait? Now, here comes Katniss Everdeen! They're…leaving separately, but they both are taking the same route home…" Turning his keys in the ignition, there is a playful glint in Caesar's eye as he suggests, "Let us follow them."

The car jerks into drive, and Caesar follows at a rather obvious distance behind Katniss' car, which is trailing lazily behind Peeta's.

This remains the pattern on the road for quite some time, when Peeta's car makes a right at a stoplight, and Katniss remains driving straight.

Caesar lets out an exasperated sigh. He slams down aggressively on the brakes in his tantrum, which causes the camera to lurch forward.

"Well, drat. If they aren't together now, they never will be. What a cruel twist of fate! These two are Star-Crossed Lovers if I've ever seen them! What a waste!"

As Caesar surrenders and drives Cressida and Messalla back to Panem, Castor and Messalla, who have been positioned in another car at the end of the same road, continue to follow Peeta's car as it parks outside a tire repair shop. Not too shortly after, the familiar beat up hood of Katniss' car pulls into the shot behind Peeta.

Everything that follows is caught on tape: Peeta ducks under the steering wheel. Katniss exits her car, and gets into the passenger's seat of Peeta's car. Peeta pops back up while she's strapping in, and the two talk for a moment before Peeta leans over and captures Katniss' lips in a kiss. They drive off, blissfully unaware of the camera's watching on the other side of the road.

* * *

The next morning, Katniss answers the ringing phone with a reluctant look etched on her face. She takes a deep breath before greeting whoever awaits on the other line. Panning out, the cameras reveal Haymitch waiting by the reception desk with an eager smile, like a child awaiting candy at the store that he has been promised.

"Haymitch Abernathy's Panem Electric District Twelve Johanna Mason Memorial Celebrity Anemia Awareness Dance for a Cure, this is Katniss—they hung up."

Haymitch rolls his eyes, "You've gotta say the event title faster, then, Sweetheart."

* * *

"A woman should not have to be electrocuted to find out she has an iron deficiency, but that's where we are in America," Haymitch informs the crew as he sloppily decorates the warehouse with streamers. "So, today, I am having a dance marathon to raise awareness of the fact that there is a cure for anemia. We're having some trouble getting sponsors, though. Not to worry. Alma called and donated five hundred bucks this morning!"

Boggs emerges from behind a truck that is pulling out with coal shipments, eyeing Haymitch with a mixture of annoyance and pure entertainment dancing on his features.

"Isn't that your money though, Boss?" Boggs, still looking amused as ever, asks as he comes around to pat Haymitch on the back. The manager pauses for a moment to come to this realization, and then shrugs.

"It's for a good cause."

"These the decorations, Haymitch?"

The camera pans around the room to reveal more lopsided, carelessly hung streamers and some half-inflated balloons. A sign that was very much ripped from the internet and carelessly written on to fit this event hangs loosely over the banister leading from the office into the warehouse.

"Uh, yeah. Clove refused to help out because she's mourning her pet lizard, so I've taken it upon myself to decorate the venue, but I should have asked Wiress, or any of the CAREERS …"

Boggs nods, taking in the scene around him for a moment, before speaking up again, "This looks sad, Haymitch. Like, really sad."

"I know."

"Like, 'Someone could die right here and this room could easily host their funeral' level of sad."

"Alright, you jackass, I get it."

The foreman chuckles to himself, eyes scanning the scene once more. Homes and some of the other guys join in from various stations around the warehouse.

"Look, go upstairs, handle the rest of your dance business. Me and the guys can set up something that looks a lot less like a hostage situation for you."

Haymitch's eyes brighten. "Boggs, you're sure?"

"Yeah, you sure?" Homes reiterates, nose crinkled in confusion. The older man elbows him in the ribcage and shrugs.

"Of course. We warehouse guys can make any place a party place. Just, you know, it's gonna be a lot of work, and by the time we move all the boxes around and get everything set up, we're gonna be tired. I think we ought to be able to take the rest of the day off after we're finished decorating."

As Boggs speaks and Haymitch buys into his seemingly kind gesture more, Homes' smile grows wider. The regional manager nods along in agreement.

"What do you say, Boss? That seems fair, doesn't it?"

Haymitch, still nodding, hums a little to himself as he enters a deep state of thought. The workers of the warehouse look on with anticipation.

"That seems fair," Haymitch decides. "You all deserve to have a rest. It's what the anemics would want."

"Yes!" Boggs cheers. Catching himself, he collects his composure and eyes the cameras with mock solemn, "Exactly what the anemics would want."

They all groan when Haymitch gives them a coupon for their hard-earned day off. The manager claims that he needs every pair of feet in the warehouse that he can get.

"Fine," Boggs groans, grabbing a box of party streamers from his manager. "But I'm not dancing."

Homes snickers, "Yeah. You dance like you're missin' a foot, Boggs."

They start tousling, which is obviously playful, but immediately turns violent when Haymitch tries to jump in.

"You must be trying to get everyone killed today, Boss," Boggs grumbles, rubbing his now-sore arm that Haymitch had yanked back while trying to get Boggs to say 'Uncle'.

* * *

"Hey, Clove," Finnick exits the bathroom after changing into his dance gear (which favors, like most of Finnick's clothing, style over comfort) and approaches the girl dressed in all black, veil and all, from behind. He tenderly touches the small of her back, and Clove stiffens mid-way through pouring herself a cup of hot water for her tea. "I'm really sorry to hear about your lizard."

Clove starts to sob again, and when she finds herself wrapped in the comforting embrace of Finnick's awaiting arms, the crew finds Finnick grinning up into the camera.

* * *

" _There's nothing more attractive to me than a damsel in distress," Finnick gloats in private afterward._

* * *

 _Clove holds up a picture of herself and a sickly-looking, spotted pink lizard with bulging eyes and a lolling gray tongue on what looks like a picnic for two._

" _This is my snow leopard gecko, Glimmer. She was my best friend. I nursed her through many sicknesses over her years." Her tone stiffens with hostility. "I asked Cato Hadley to watch her for one afternoon, and she was brutally murdered."_

 _She finds another photo in the stack and stifles another oncoming sob. Slowly, she reveals it to the cameras. A rack focus allows the crew to get a clearer image of the photo. In it, Clove is dressed as a giant lizard, which looks terrifying combined with her already-reptilian human features, and is holding Glimmer close to her cheek._

" _This was from Halloween last year. Just a couple of lizards out on the town…"_

 _She begins to sob again._

* * *

The crew has just captured a nice shot of Katniss looking on at Peeta, who works unassumingly at his desk, and smiling, when they hear someone from outside the frame startle the receptionist.

"Psst!"

The cameras move to reveal Clove, who's eyes just barely can be seen over the wall dividing the reception desk from Johanna's vacated station. The height of the accountant would be comical if not for the pain in her red-rimmed eyes.

"Me?" Katniss asks, pointing a confused finger at herself.

Clove rolls her eyes. "No, the other boring receptionist. Of course I'm talking to you."

"Okay, it was nice chatting with you, Clove," Katniss replies, having none of Clove's usual pointed jabs at her expense this particular afternoon.

"I'm having relationship problems," Clove allows herself to relent to the other woman.

Katniss, who's been the one suspecting Clove and Cato's pairing for quite some time now, feigns confusion while her eyes light up for the cameras.

"With who? I didn't even know you were in a relationship," Katniss says, concern carefully crafted in her voice. Clove rolls her eyes.

"It's not important. But since you're always having relationship drama, I figured I'd ask you. If your…mangy little fleabag…"

"Buttercup, my sister's cat, yeah," Katniss cuts in. "A lot of people have cats, Clove. I don't know why you think it's so weird."

Clove scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"Whatever. If your cat was dead, and you knew that Darius had something to do with it, you'd end it with him, right?"

Katniss gnaws at her lip. Given all of her research plus the blow up between Cato and Clove yesterday, her suspicions have been all but confirmed.

"Is this about Cato, Clove?" Katniss asks, hoping that Clove will finally come clean. The shorter woman glares from across the wall separating them.

"It doesn't matter who this is about. It's totally hypothetical."

"But Cato killed Glimmer..."

"Can you stop being the most annoying person in this office and just tell me what to do?" Clove snaps.

Sighing, Katniss relents and tells Clove the truth, which luckily is what Katniss must presume she wants to hear.

"I guess I would, yeah. But I actually hate cats, and I'm just watching Buttercup while Prim's at school, so I don't think I'm the best source to ask about pet ethics…Also, Darius and I broke up over a year ago…"

Once again, Clove crinkles her nose in disgust for Katniss' words, acts like she hasn't helped her at all, and vacates the premises.

* * *

Pollux, who is alone with his camera while the rest of the crew is taking a lunch out, finds Katniss and Peeta standing dangerously close to each other by the vending machines. Grinning like a pair of lovesick puppies, they hardly notice as Pollux hurries up to them in the middle of their mock-serious discussion on dance strategies.

"You can't be serious about thinking you're going to throw out your back. You are twenty-seven, not an old man!"

"I'm just saying it's tougher than it looks, Everdeen. Those forty-six hours when I was a spry junior in college were no joke…"

"No, I bet they were! And I also bet you could out dance twenty-one year old Peeta now."

Peeta chuckles and moves closer. His hands unmistakably find their perch on her hips.

"What, with the moves I've picked up from you? No way. Don't come crying to me when you need some Icy-Hot, Everdeen."

Katniss throws her head back and laughs, lightly whacking Peeta right where his rolled-up dress shirt meets his elbow.

It's only then that they spot Pollux. Staring and mute, they know they have been caught, but just aren't aware of how red-handed they are.

"What?" Peeta asks, playing it off like nothing odd is happening between the three people in the break room.

* * *

 _While the incriminating footage from the day before is playing on the conference room TV, Katniss and Peeta stare bewildered at themselves. Once the tape cuts off, they both struggle to find any words, shooting worried glances between each other and at Pollux's camera._

" _No, that's not…" Peeta, usually a wordsmith, especially around the cameras, is at a complete loss for once in his life. His lack of poker face causes Katniss' eyes to grow with panic beside him. "I mean, I can see how it would seem like…Well, nowadays, you can edit anything to look like…"_

 _He shoots Katniss a look that pleads for help, and the receptionist snaps to life._

" _Um, it's a funny story, actually. I was just giving him a ride home because…uh…we're dating."_

 _Once the admission has been blurted out by Katniss, the two cannot help but break into matching, vibrant smiles. Katniss giggles a little as Peeta wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer to him._

" _Wow, there it is."_

" _We haven't told anybody, especially at the office," Katniss adds on while Peeta covers his mouth with his hand to block off some of the joy that overspills from his every pore from the view of the cameras. "But it's been three months now, and it's going well. Sometimes it doesn't even feel real. But it's real, right?"_

 _She looks up at her boyfriend, who smiles at her like the sun shines through only her eyes._

" _Yeah, it's very real," he says warmly._

* * *

In a conference consisting of only Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, and Cato, the final details for the Dance Marathon are being solidified.

"So, we're at seven hundred dollars of funds now, which isn't a whole lot, but I think we can raise more as the night goes on, what do you think?" Haymitch fields the question to his panel of experts. "Is that enough for a giant check we can hand off to an Iron Deficiency doctor?"

Katniss sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth.

"I don't know. Usually, big checks cost about two-hundred dollars to print up, and doctors usually don't come and collect checks for anything under a thousand…" she starts. Haymitch shoots a pointed look at Cato from across the table.

"Maybe if some people weren't so stingy on their donations we could make it happen," he says, jaw locked in a grimace.

Cato stubbornly crosses his arms over his shoulder and shakes his head. He looks directly into the camera as he utters his alibi.

"I was lied to when I made my donation – my money is going to anemics and not morphine addicts – so I will not be contributing any more of my hard earned cash."

Haymitch huffs.

"There's more bad news," Katniss goes on, her tone solemn but her smirk unmissable. It's clear to the crew and to Peeta that she is merely entertaining Haymitch's seriousness on the subject. The boss sighs dramatically and rubs his temples.

"Lay it on me," he states. Then, to himself, "Jesus, I really need a drink."

"Iron Deficiency Doctors don't actually exist."

While Haymitch is moaning and groaning over the fallacies of this day, Peeta shares a knowing grin across the table at his girlfriend as he cooks up an idea to make this event worthwhile for everyone else.

"I know an Iron Man we could probably hire by the hour. He usually does birthdays and events, that kind of stuff," Peeta chirps, earning a snort from Katniss as she makes herself look busy by scribbling on the paper. "We could probably hire him to save the day."

"Oh, great. Where do we call up Iron Man?" Haymitch inquires, leaning in earnestly.

Peeta shoots the cameras a look that seems to say he almost feels bad for playing to Haymitch's gullibility.

"Stark Industries."

* * *

Camouflaged by the plants surrounding the accountants' desk clump, the camera watches as Cato, who fiddles with his shirt, cautiously approaches Clove from behind.

"Here are the receipts from the items Haymitch purchased from the party," he announces, when it becomes clear that Clove has no intention of turning around to address him. Staring coldly ahead, Clove reaches out and takes the wad of receipts without a word.

"Thank you, Cato," Clove says mirthlessly. Cato nods his head and looks like he is about to leave, but something keeps him lingering somewhat predatorily around Clove's desk. The woman seated in front of him sighs, "Is there anything else I can get you?"

Cato's wild blue eyes light up. Leaning in close to Clove's ear, he whispers, "You can give me a chance at your forgiveness."

Abruptly slamming the receipts down on the desktop, Clove huffs to herself in annoyance.

"Elevator. Now."

Cressida and the crew make quick work of getting to the elevators before Cato's hulking steps can match up with Clove's punctuated strides. After checking over her shoulders (and almost directly staring into Castor's camera), Clove turns on her heels, nearly crashing into Cato, before he can even speak.

"What do you want?" Clove hisses once she's sure they're in private.

Grinning to himself, Cato clumsily reaches a hand into his dress shirt and pulls out a writhing snake.

"To give you this. It's a garden snake. I had Marvel trap it this morning. It's to replace the old reptile that I destroyed."

"Her name was Glimmer," Clove says through gritted teeth.

He happily extends the coiled creature toward Clove, who cries out in disgust and shoves the snake back at Cato. This causes the brute to lose his grip on the snake, and it slips from his hands. Both Cato and Clove watch the snake slither into the office, and wince as the sounds of Wiress' screams fill the corridor.

"That is your problem," Clove grumbles, folding her arms across her chest.

Cato shrugs, "It kinda seems like it's Wiress' problem now..."

"No," Clove says, gesturing wildly toward the air around Cato, "it's _all of this._ You don't think before you act; you never have. Your actions can really hurt people, Cato."

Sighing, somewhat sad and defeated, Clove's shoulders slump. "I can't do this anymore. Every time I look at you, I just see Glimmer's cold, pale body in your eyes."

"Then don't look in my eyes!" Cato nearly pleads. He points to a spot on his forehead, directly between his eyebrows. "Look here. It's an old sales trick."

"I gave this everything I could, but I'm sorry. We're done," Clove says, her voice strangled by another oncoming sob due to a new loss in her life. Cato's eyes fill with desperation.

"Don't do this, Pookie. I lo –"

Clove cuts him off before he can say the words she must have so greatly feared him saying to her. "I'll leave your toothbrush on top of your tire tomorrow morning. Goodbye."

She leaves before he can use any more emotional warfare on her, unshed tears in her dark eyes. Cato, stunned and heartbroken, slumps against the wall, and as his body sinks to the floor, so do his spirits.

* * *

When the cameras next find Peeta Mellark, he is animatedly talking into the phone. His happiness indicates that he is very clearly not on a work-related call.

"Yes, I'd like to request the option of the suit that lights up and makes noise. You have the address? Thank you…we look forward to having him here, Haymitch will be so excited to meet Iron Man. Thanks again. Bye."

Hanging up the phone, Peeta lets out a victorious whoop. His eyes light up when he stares into the camera.

"Alright, Haymitch, Iron Man is booked for the event. I just need you to sign off on the invoice for his services!" Peeta eagerly calls out as he rises from his desk to grab the faxed invoice from Katniss.

When he and the cameras go to look for Haymitch, his office door is open. The boss is nowhere to be seen, but a freshly opened tequila bottle positioned beside the incriminating Brita filter from earlier is visible in the frame.

"Where's Haymitch?" Peeta asks Cato, who refuses to look up from his diligent work, most likely to avoid the heated glares Clove has been throwing at him from her desk all day.

"Bathroom, probably. He said something about the floor and rushed off."

Offscreen, a loud gasp can be heard. Katniss is cringing as she hurries out of Haymitch's office.

"He vomited all over the carpet in there," Katniss says, holding her nose.

"Oh, ew," Cato says mirthlessly.

Peeta stares at his unmoving figure, for it is unlike Cato to not be rushing to do everything he can in order to help his boss.

"Are you going to do anything, Assistant Regional Manager?"

Cato shakes his head vigorously.

"Assistant _to_ the Regional Manager…" Cato corrects him, for once allowing the technicality. He is caught glancing over his shoulder, where Clove's desk is right in line with the break room, and therefore blocking his path to the bathroom. Lying, he states, "I don't do bodily fluids."

Quickly, and grumbling something about _now_ being Cato's chosen time to be disloyal to Haymitch, Peeta springs into action and rushes to the bathroom.

He lightly raps on the door, and from the other end, Haymitch can be heard groaning. The unmistakable sound of water running and retching can be heard before the sound of Haymitch shouting, "Come in!" is heard.

Peeta opens the door and is in the middle of asking if Haymitch is alright when the cameras and the salesman both jump back, alarmed by the scene before them. Haymitch, naked from the waist down, is furiously trying to clean himself up and shaking like a wet leaf. Most of a soiled dance costume lies in a heap on the floor. His entire dress shirt is stained with what is assumed to be the re-emergence of the tequila from his office. However, he has not put on any underwear, and the image that is blurred out in post-production is unfortunately being seen in high-definition for Peeta and the crew.

"Oh, my God!"

Haymitch's first instinct is to cross his arms over his hairy chest and beer belly. Suddenly realizing his exposed lower half is also on display, he stares back at his oglers with wide-eyed horror.

"What are you doing?! Get the hell out of here, boy!"

"I was trying to see if you were okay, and you said 'come in'!" Peeta fires back, struggling to look anywhere but at Haymitch's body as he flails toward the costume in search of something to cover himself up.

"No, I didn't!"

"Yeah, you did!"

"Mellark, I am in a highly compromising position right now and would like you to close the door," Haymitch hisses at Peeta through gritted teeth. He tries to move toward Peeta to push him out of the room, but ends up slipping in his own vomit and falls hard on the tile floor. He groans and rubs his lower back.

" _Go_ , Mellark."

Peeta is about to obey this command. He turns to face the cameras with a look that seems to say he is too shaken up to make a sarcastic comment about what he has just seen, but that quickly transforms into a sympathetic, yet terrified look of dread when he hears Haymitch groaning behind him.

Dismissing the cameras, Peeta sighs and turns back around to face his boss. "Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

"Then, I washed him down and tucked him in so he could get some rest. He was pretty beaten up, given that this was his first alcohol binge in weeks and he really overdid it…I know I should be very concerned for his health, but I can't shake the image of his…"

Unsurprisingly, the camera crew finds Peeta where Katniss is waiting in the break room. He is relaying the whole story in vivid detail, but his face remains listless, like he has gone into a state of shock.

"French Baguette?" Katniss finishes for him when the story gets to its graphic point. Peeta comes back to life and animatedly rolls his eyes.

"Spare me the baker's son humor, please. I am traumatized."

Moments later, a fully-clothed and very hungover Haymitch (decked out in head to toe in eighties dance movie gear now), stalks up to the break room door. Peeta stops pacing and Katniss plasters herself against Peeta. His hand instinctively covers hers. The moment would be touching if it weren't so tense and uncomfortable.

Haymitch makes a big point of knocking three times before bellowing, "May I enter the break room?"

"Yes," Peeta calls back. And then, echoing his boss' words, adds, " _Come in._ "

Haymitch slowly enters, never once letting his eyes unlock themselves from Peeta's. Both icy-hot glares face off in a staring match that has Katniss painfully caught in the cross-fire.

"You have a very simple task when entering a room. You knock, get the okay, and wait for the all-clear," the regional manager speaks first when the salesman shows no sign of backing down.

"I didn't mean to walk-in on you in the _public bathroom_ , believe me," Peeta says. "You're welcome for showering you in a sink, by the way."

Haymitch mutters a weak thanks and reverts back to his state of apparent annoyance with the man who came to his rescue.

Peeta rolls his eyes and mirrors Haymitch's look of vexation with one of his own. "But at what point, drunk or sober, would you ever think it was a good idea to be naked in the _public bathroom_?"

"Don't be such a tight-wad," Haymitch says, shaking his head. "Why wouldn't I change in the bathroom?"

"Because this is a professional work environment? And you have a private office?" Peeta ventures with a shrug and a look at the cameras. "You shouldn't be that hammered at work, anyway, so you're really batting with two strikes here…"

Out of nowhere, Katniss groans, "Oh, god. I'm thinking of it! I didn't even see it, but I'm thinking about it anyway! Haymitch, make it stop!"

"Oh, you're never getting off that train of thought, Sweetheart," Haymitch deadpans.

"You didn't have to actually see it," Peeta grumbles to his girlfriend, eyes darting to the ceiling to avoid Haymitch's heated glare.

The manager, teeth bared in an oncoming snarl, snaps his fingers in their faces to get the grossed-out couple's attention.

"Quit it with the dramatics, okay? Both of you are blowing this way out of proportion. My shirt-tail covered most of it anyway."

"I didn't' see where it started but I saw where it ended," Peeta mutters into the floor. Katniss, eyes wide as saucers, looks between her boyfriend and Haymitch and the camera focused on her. Peeta shrugs defenselessly. "I'm sorry! He said proportion and it made me think of it again!"

Haymitch pinches the bridge of his nose in agitation. "Look, Mellark, I had a minor relapse, it happens to everyone. I ain't a college girl, I know how to handle a little nausea. You saw your boss naked. It happens to everyone…"

Peeta wearily looks at the cameras, hoping he doesn't have to even imply that this in fact does not happen to everyone.

"Besides," Haymitch goes on, "if we keep yammering about it, we're distracting ourselves from the real focus of today: anemia. It's unfair to the anemics if we keep talking about this."

"I think we could _all_ benefit from no longer talking about this, not just the anemics," Peeta supplies.

Haymitch nods resolutely.

"Great. Go team," he affirms, extending his hand out toward them. "Let's shake on it."

The salesman reluctantly takes his boss' hand and shakes it. Neither of them can look each other in the eye. Between them once more, Katniss silently screams for mercy as she delivers another desperate look to the camera.

* * *

" _Yeah, it_ is _pretty gross to think that my boyfriend has seen the most intimate parts of my boss' body…I wasn't thinking about that until now," Katniss answers the question posed to her when pulled away for a private commentary. "So, uh, thank you for bringing that up."_

 _She pauses for a moment, blankly looking off at a spot over the cameraman's heads, and shudders violently._

 _"Oh, my God. What if I never stop thinking about it?"_

* * *

The warehouse has been cleared out to create a giant dance floor. Clad in various dance clothes from indistinguishable eras, as no theme for the Dance-a-Thon had been established before, office members can be seen half-heartedly warming up while a group of community members that strayed into the warehouse mistaking it for a rave wait on the bleachers that have been set up.

Alma, clad in a flashy jumpsuit that craftily shows off the parts of her body that have been injected with Botox, checks everyone in at the warehouse entrance.

"Sae, there is no way you are in the eighty-five-year-old division."

Sae shrugs at Alma and then looks at the camera. She is shamelessly dressed in a _Flashdance_ costume that, unlike Alma, is not too flattering.

"Eight-six in April. Off the record," she says right to Cressida before scampering off with her number.

Peeta, next in line, gets the shock of his life as Alma is pinning his number to him. "So, I hear you were peeping on Haymitch."

The young salesman looks dumbstruck. "Oh, no, I…"

"I always thought the receptionist would be the problem, but now I see we should have been focusing on the boy," Alma says. Katniss merely gapes at the cameras, offended. Still narrowing her eyes at Peeta, Coin leans in closer. "Do what you want with whoever you want in whatever body part you want, but Haymitch is mine. So back off."

Between elaborate stretches, Cato overhears this and gasps. He rushes across the parking lot to where Haymitch is going over his speech.

"Peeta was _snooping_ on you?! Where was it? In your office? Your emails? Your condo?" Glowering in the way that makes Cato look all at once terrifying and ridiculous, his voice lowers in grave seriousness. "I can be your body guard."

Haymitch swats at the salesman, annoyed. "Shut up, Ingrate. So Mellark and I bonded over my pork and beans…I'm not going around flashing anyone who asks now."

* * *

" _Mark my words: I_ will _see my boss' penis," Cato, who has brought the crew to some nearby bushes, declares conspiratorially. "It will be consensual, platonic, and amazing. And Haymitch and I will be bound forever. Peeta Mellark cannot best me. I will be victorious!"_

* * *

"Thank you all for coming to the First Annual Haymitch Abernathy's Panem Electric District Twelve Johanna Mason Memorial Celebrity Anemia Awareness Dance for a Cure," Haymitch greets the crowd, of which he receives a surprising turn out and an even more surprising applause from said crowd. Everyone from Panem merely looks on with reluctance.

"Before we kick this marathon off, I want to say a few words about this deadly disease called anemia." He flickers on a small screen behind him, which reveals a rather unflattering photo of Johanna at an even less flattering angle in her hospital bed. "This is the face of anemics everywhere. It's terrifying. But we're here to get educated and stop this madness from spreading. Show of hands, who here thinks that anemia killed less than 5,000 people in 2014?"

No one has a chance to even raise their hand or consider their answer before the manager butts in, "If you raised your hand, you'd be wrong, because 5,219 people in the US died of anemia. Now, raise your hand if you've been afflicted, or know of anyone with anemia."

Everyone from Panem, thinking of Johanna, raises their hands, and Haymitch lets out a shocked, albeit expected, gasp. "That's half the crowd, people! How many more menstruating women have to lose enough iron that they _die_ for someone to do something about it?! One? Two? _Three_?..."

Haymitch keeps counting till he gets to around fifteen. "I could be here counting for days! Where is the Iron Man?"

The hired professional, dressed as the famed Marvel super hero, appears grandiosely in the back of the warehouse. When Haymitch cheers, the man takes off his red and gold helmet to survey the area with a look of utter confusion and discomfort.

"You're Haymitch?" he asks, pointing a finger at the grown man in the _Dirty Dancing_ ensemble. "I thought Haymitch was a little kid."

Peeta crosses his arms over his chest and stifles a laugh. Meanwhile, Haymitch beckons the Iron Man impersonator onstage and offers him a giant check made out simply to 'Science'. The costumed man continues to question what is going on and why he has been brought to an adult party.

"It's not a party, Jackass. This is a fundraiser for Iron Deficient Anemics," Haymitch grumbles. 'Iron Man' scratches his head and wearily eyes the cameras that are on him.

"Isn't that, like, treatable by eating more meat or something?"

"Beat it, you weirdly muscular robot," Haymitch deadpans, and then bellows to the crowd, "make sure this gets into the right hands!"

Iron Man, now with a virtually useless giant check in hand, slowly wanders off the premises.

"Now, with the help of DJ C-Flick, we will begin the countdown to forty-eight hours of non-stop booging!"

Caesar, however, who is sporting large headphones, only hears his boss say begin and the countdown is cut short by a blast of music coming from the speakers. Everyone springs into action and begins to dance.

* * *

 _Cinna, dressed in his usual work attire of simple black dress clothes, chuckles when the cameras follow his shuffling out the back door of the warehouse and into the parking lot. Cressida, knowing Cinna's ambivalence well by this point, asks if he plans on dancing._

" _Oh, yes, I am dancing. Out of this warehouse, into a cab, and down the sale rack at J-Crew for a two-day paid vacation."_

 _He pulls down his sunglasses to wink into the camera lens before hopping into the back of an Uber and driving off._

* * *

 _Finnick, who looks as if he's about to go to one salsa dancing lesson rather than partake in forty-eight hours of staying on his feet, scoffs a bit when asked how he plans to make it to the end of the Dance Marathon._

" _I participated in a number of aquatic sports growing up. Many people have said that I could have beaten Michael Phelps in the Olympics…you know, if my pageant schedule hadn't gotten in the way. If there's anything I learned about endurance, it's that if you're the most likable guy on the team, the coaches and other kids' moms will buy you enough items to make you the best."_

 _He directs the cameras down to his specially crafted leather dancing shoes._

" _Johanna sent me these herself, with a rather incoherent note attached. I'll make it to the end of this thing, no problem."_

* * *

At first, the Dance goes off without a hitch. The first few hours actually capture footage of members of the team having fun and blowing off the steam from the difficult week the branch has encountered. With the help of Wiress and Beetee, Madge learns some old dance moves and laughs with the older pair, seemingly forgetting about her ex in New York. Sae and the guys from the warehouse work together to hang a disco ball from the celiling fan.

"Great addition, Greasy Sae," Boggs commends her, avoiding touching her when she goes in for the hih-five and eventual butt grab. Sae chuckles.

"No worries, Sonny. Now I just won't know who's behind me while I'm driving. Less bodies on the road that way," she says before scurrying away to dance as if she were performing some kind of Satanic ritual.

Even Clove, still adorned in her veil of mourning for Glimmer and attempting to do paperwork despite the noise, cannot resist tapping her toes along to the heavy bass in DJ-C Flick's playlist.

Finnick cha-chas up to her and tries playfully bumping her with his hip. Her accounting papers spew all over the floor. Clove growls as she bends to pick them up, and Finnick turns bright red.

"Sorry about that! I was just challenging you to a dance off!" he shouts over the music, swaying along to the latest Ed Sheeran hit. "You looked like you could use it!"

Dusting herself off, Clove shakes her head. "I hate to be _that_ person, but I don't enjoy the general spirit of music. Maybe I can just clean something. That might be fun…"

Finnick steps directly in her path before her tiny body can part the sea of dancing people. Though they glitter with their usual charm, the sincerity that appears on occasion also swims in Finnick's green eyes as they study the girl who stands at least two feet shorter than him. It seems, that despite the womanizing reputation he has garnered, Finnick Odair longs for a chance at love just like everyone else in this office.

"Clove, with all due respect, I think you have more to celebrate than to grieve. Yes, you lost something important to you, but you've got to stop punishing yourself all the time. You are a young, beautiful, smart, strong woman. You care so deeply, and it's a very unique trait. I'm sure Glimmer knew that, and I think she'd probably want you to sparkle just like she did in the right lighting."

The accountant, struck by Finnick's kind words and attention to detail about the lizard everyone else seemed to forget about, tucks a strand of hair nervously behind her ears and averts her eyes.

"I'm not a very good dancer."

Finnick extends his hand as an invitation. "C'mon. I can help you out. We have to survive forty-three more hours of this thing."

She hesitates for a moment, but with a small smile of encouragement from Finnick, she manages to muster up the courage to take his hand and be led onto the dance floor.

As they pass by, the cameras zoom out to reveal Cato, handles of Jim Beam clenched in his hands, watching from afar in muted horror.

* * *

The crew finds Cato in the parking lot, looking all kinds of distraught as he pours himself and Haymitch two full glasses of the liquor. Haymitch downs the contents in practically one gulp.

"Hit the pre-game too hard, but the key is sustaining the buzz," Haymitch tells the cameras, wiping the remaining liquid from his lips with his sweaty shirt collar. Cato nods along distractedly, pouring some Jim Beam right onto the ground. Haymitch scolds him for being a ditz and captures the stream with his glass for a refill.

"I always dance best when I'm drinking. My goal is to be one of the last ones standing. I have to prove to this office, and this horrible world, that I can make a difference. Cato, did you put that Vomit Inducing Elixir in Effie's coffee like I asked you to?"

Cato snaps back to life, eyes wide.

"Vomit Elixir? You said Comet Elixir in your SMS text message!"

Haymitch groans and shoves the bottles back at Cato. Still forlorn about Clove seemingly having a good time with Finnick, his arch nemesis, Cato takes a large swig directly from the bottle.

* * *

" _I've never felt this much energy and power in a long-term race!" Effie cheers, dancing in dangerously high heels, which we now know is due to the fact that her drink hasn't been poisoned. "My physical shape is really proving to be an ally for me today! Usually at this point in the evening I'd have to run to the bathroom or feel a bit queasy, but I feel great!"_

* * *

When the twenty-four hour mark is reached, Haymitch calls for a mid-dance celebration that consists of an iron-themed prize giveaway. Given that most of the items being thrown out into the crowd by an inexplicable toy canon are mostly iron piping and metal parts, the celebration turns out to be more of a catastrophe than a triumph.

Boggs threatens to turn the canon on Haymitch if he fires one more item and breaks one more thing in the warehouse, so the manager turns to taking the microphone around the audience and asking them who they dance for. Most people's answer, unsurprisingly, is 'Johanna'. However, when the question is posited back to Haymitch, the drunk grump grins smugly and says he has a better answer than the lot of his dancers.

"I dance for the people who, unlike Johanna, did not survive their anemia and weren't as lucky to have been told about it after they got electrocuted."

Whatever rallying attempts were almost successful at this point are thwarted by his arrogant answer.

* * *

 _The crew loses Haymitch for a few hours. They find him, crouched behind a rack of burners in the back of the warehouse, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. He aggressively laps his flask dry before searching the premises for Alma and shoving the metal container back into his Patrick Swayze shirt pocket._

 _"How am I going to get through the rest of this? With a little help from my friends, of course," Haymitch says when Cressida asks if he thinks he can survive the remaining hours. The camera starts to pan to those half-heartedly shimmying behind him when Haymitch's red face pops into the frame. "Not those idiots. I mean my friends Captain Morgan and Jose Cuervo."_

 _Cressida, stepping out from behind her equipment, poses the question of possibly sitting out a few hours._

 _"No way, Tattoo Head. I'm dancing this whole thing; I made a promise to the people here, and I gotta do whatever it takes to keep it. I am a man of my word."_

 _He rolls his eyes when Cressida then brings up his promise of sobriety that he allegedly made to Alma, his girlfriend._

 _"What she doesn't know won't kill her. Believe me, some promises are better kept broken."_

* * *

When Panem's favorite secret couple is found, they appear to care little about their once carefully kept rouse, having danced together for almost twenty-six hours. As they wander over to Alma's station by the water coolers, Katniss groans when she reads something on her phone.

"My mom took another late shift at the hospital tonight, so I have to go feed Buttercup his dinner at some point," she whines. "I never thought I'd want to stay at a work function more than go to my futon bed. I need to get out of there."

Peeta smirks a little as he hands her a water bottle. "And who would take you in if you moved, Everdeen? You're stubborn, you're messy, you label all of your food, and you ask way too many questions while watching movies…"

"I just think _Inception_ has way too many plotholes," Katniss argues. Eyeing him coyly over her water bottle, she adds, "I definitely couldn't live with my boyfriend."

"Why, because he's an amazing baker and would only make you food that you wouldn't share?" Peeta, slowly catching on to the serious edge this conversation is taking, asks. Peeta grimaces a little as Katniss' eyes shift and she starts to worry her bottom lip with her teeth. "Or is it something else?"

Katniss sighs. "I don't…I have this thing. I don't live with anyone unless I'm engaged to them, is all…"

Her worry is quickly evaded when Peeta deflects it with feigned look of confusion. "Oh…I didn't propose to you yet?"

"Hmm, no. I don't recall," Katniss, snorting, plays along.

"Oh, well, rest assured, that's coming," Peeta says, and once again, the playfulness is laced with truth. Katniss nearly chokes on her water. "And when it does, it's gonna knock your socks off."

"Wait. You're not planning on doing this now, are you?" she squeaks, eyes as wide as saucers. Although caught off-guard, there is no hiding the rush of emotion that floods her red cheeks.

Peeta rolls his eyes. "No, not here. That would be lame and super unfair to the iron deficient."

"Okay, then when, since we're bringing it up?" the receptionist asks, huffing in frustration. Peeta simply smirks and goes back to his water. "Peeta, you know I don't like surprises…"

"I can't _tell_ you, Katniss. That's not how it works. No matter how much you hate surprises, you're gonna have to accept this one," Peeta retorts, starting to dance again as the song shifts into Earth, Wind, and Fire's hit "September". Katniss's annoyance with him wears off when Peeta takes her hand, spins her around and wraps her in his arms while she laughs.

"You want someone to keep you company while you cat-sit?" he offers. Katniss' eyebrows arch in mock surprise.

"You're going to quit on this Dance Marathon? You? The self-proclaimed _King_ of dance marathons?"

Peeta shrugs. "Okay, but what if I told you this King could royally decree that a disease with a cure doesn't need a dance marathon? Also, what if I told you we could order take out, stay in tonight, and slip back into this supposed Dance Marathon without the court jester even noticing we left?"

Katniss peers over her shoulder, where Haymitch is drunkenly flailing his limbs around to the beat of the music, the only one enjoying his display of "courage" being his clearly unstable girlfriend.

"Mm, I can get on board with that."

Peeta smiles. "Then let's go."

They begin to leave, and Pollux follows them with his camera out to the parking lot. Katniss mentions getting her belongings inside and starts toward the building.

"Ooh, also, we should check out that new Thai place _Pods_ for dinner, what do you think…?"

She stops short at the sight of Peeta getting down behind her to kneel. Peeta looks up at her, flushed and eyes filled with an unanswered question.

Fear painted across her always carefully guarded facial features, "Peeta?"

"Hey, Katniss…will you…?" he gulps and bows his head. Katniss waits with bated breath as the world seems to stand still. When his face reemerges from his mop of blonde curls, Peeta is smirking somewhat goofily. He starts to make a big show of tying the laces on his sneakers. "…Grab my coat up there too while I take care of this?"

Katniss, jaw still unhinged, turns bright red, although the crew catches her releasing the breath she's been holding. "You unknotted your perfectly double-laced shoes for that bit and I hate you for it."

Peeta pretends to put two and two together, looking from Katniss to his shoes in a rather slapstick routine of jerking his neck back and forth. "My shoe is untied, what is your problem? Oh, you thought I was…? Oh, no. Katniss, come on…"

He stands up quickly and starts jogging after his girlfriend, who now makes a show of marching away, although the laughter on her lips is evident.

"You're so right," she says, jokingly. "How could I have thought that?" Now, it's her turn for her face to twist in a smirk that tells the viewer she has the upper hand. "I'm just so glad you're able to laugh and joke at all, Peeta, considering you saw our boss naked today."

Peeta's chuckling ceases and his face turns a ghastly white as the images of Haymitch in the bathroom undoubtedly resurface.

"Touche."

Together, they make their way out of the parking lot. The moment in which Katniss' hand brushes up against Peeta's and his fingers intertwine with hers, though, is unmissable. A stolen moment of bliss for two people who have finally found the happiness they have yearned for.

* * *

" _Really, I'm not messing with her," Peeta earnestly tells the cameras as he wipes beads of sweat from his brow in a private interview out in the parking lot while Katniss runs to grab their coats. "I know she doesn't want any rushed or long engagements…something about her past? I don't really remember the story too clearly."_

 _Peeta quiets down while the cameras still record him. Scanning the area to make sure there is no sign of anyone else around, he reaches into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small, velvet box that pops open to reveal a glorious ring. It is a simple, silver band that twists elegantly around a familiar item: the pearl that the pair had been exchanging for good luck over the past year before they were together._

" _I went out and bought this about two and a half months ago after our third or fourth date," he reveals, the brightness of his smile rivaling the ring. He laughs, a mixture of nerves and childlike excitement, as he pockets the ring again. "Now I'm just waiting for the perfect moment to ask."_

* * *

It is now hour forty, and much of the event remains so uneventful that the crew deems most of the footage virtually useless. Everyone, in front of and behind the cameras, has grown restless for an end and a bed.

Madge, who has volunteered to be the one taking down call-in donations, sits by the ringing phone, looking completely disinterested as she blankly scrolls through Instagram on her own phone. Finally, once the ringing starts up again, she rolls her eyes and gets on the line.

"Haymitch Abernathy's Panem Electric District Twelve Johanna Mason Memorial Celebrity Anemia Awareness Dance for a Cure, this is Madge."

Her microphone enables the cameras to pick up the familiar gruff voice on the other line.

" _Madge, it's Gale."_

Suddenly rattled to life, Madge's eyes grow wide as she begins to fixate over her appearance – smoothing out her dress, flipping her hair, and even going so far as to reapply some of her makeup – until Gale cuts her off.

" _Hello? Madge? Are you there?"_

"Yes, I am," a very flustered Madge replies. "I thought you'd never call me back."

" _I technically called the branch. Multiple times. But it seems to me that no one is in the office to take my calls, or any client's calls, for that matter."_

"Oh, so this is just a business thing, then," Madge says, her demeanor quickly morphing back into the angry spurned lover we were first met with this year. Icily, she puts on her best show of pretending now to care when she asks, "What level of contribution would you like to put toward the cause today, Sir?"

There is a long pause on the other line. _"Contribution? To what?"_

Madge sighs. "You never listen. Haymitch Abernathy's Panem Electric District Twelve Johanna Mason Memorial Celebrity Anemia Awareness Dance for a Cure, Dumbass."

" _So none of you are working…because Haymitch is throwing a Dance party for almost killing Johanna?"_

"Yup, that's right. And I'm dancing and having so much fun without you. I'm gonna get Boggs' number after this, probably," Madge lies, still sitting and half-glued to her phone.

" _Unbelievable_ ," Gale mutters, clearly not referring to Madge. However, thinking it's all about her, the young customer service rep perks up.

"What are you gonna do about it, Gale?" Madge challenges.

" _I'm coming down there."_

He hangs up before Madge can say, "See you soon, Sweetie." Placing the phone back on the receiver, Madge smiles coyly at the cameras.

"I knew he'd come back," she says. "They always come back."

* * *

Forty-six hours of the Dance-a-Thon have gone by, and most of the public has gone home. The Panem employees, forced to stay by their boss, have nearly all been seated. What little interest they had in helping their boss' deranged cause has dwindled to nothing. Most members of the office sit around bored, while others, like Sae, spin deliriously in circles. The event itself has run out of food and water, but despite protests, Haymitch keeps dancing. Effie also keeps dancing because she has been drinking from Cato's strangely energizing concoction all night.

"Come on, you pansies! Get on up and dance-ies!" Haymitch bellows to his employees. Everyone groans when Coin cheers him on.

"This is quite honestly causing all of us more detriment to our health than it is benefitting anyone with anemia's health, Haymitch," Beetee claims as he tries repositioning himself on a crate of coal to get more comfortable. Wiress, who'd been using that crate as a pillow, tries to swat at Beetee but ends up smacking an otherwise lifeless Cato in the face.

"Shut your trap, Volts. Everyone get up and dance. That is an order!" Haymitch decrees, stomping his foot on the ground. No one moves a muscle, except for Effie's involuntary jerks in the background behind him.

Coin, who reclines in a lounge chair while the warehouse guys have gotten back to work around her, pulls out an airhorn and blows it. This gains everyone's delirious attention. Boggs curses to himself as he nearly drops a crate of coal on Homes' feet.

"You heard your boss! Dance!" she barks, with enough ferocity to force everyone to forget that she was fired by Panem and slowly rise to their feet to begin dancing again.

Caesar, who has been denied a break since the marathon began, startles himself awake when his head lolls forward and smashes into the turn tables. His golden colored hair, which he claims he had styled to look like iron, has deflated, and his usual bright smile is dimmed and turned downward. Muttering incoherently to himself, he is the most lackluster he has ever been since the crew first arrived in Allentown.

"Alright, folks," Caesar says through a loud yawn into the microphone. "Let's slow things down a bit…"

Over his shoulder, the camera captures him inserting a CD labeled "Slow Jamz" into the stereo before Caesar crawls under the table and begins to snore softly. The moment he does so is the moment he misses a very well-rested Katniss and Peeta coming through the door, still holding hands.

"Well, this looks like a post-apocalyptic dystopian nightmare," Peeta observes. Katniss nods.

"Should we do something?" she asks, concern spreading over her features as the cameras follow her line of sight to spot a slack-jawed, zombie-like pack of office workers shuffling about and bumping into each other to the sounds of 'Mad World'.

Peeta stuffs his hands in the pockets of his work pants and shrugs. "Technically, we're still getting paid to do nothing, so I guess the only thing we can do is dance."

As the song shifts to a far more romantic Frank Sinatra ballad, "Love is Here to Stay", Peeta extends his hand out to Katniss.

"Katniss, I have a proposal for you…"

He is rewarded with a light slap on the arm.

"I swear, Mellark, one more joke about this and I'll run off to marry Iron Man instead."

Laughing despite himself, Peeta lets Katniss' arms snake around his neck anyway. They sway to the music together, staring lovingly into each others' eyes without a care in the world about their privacy.

Across the room, the camera watches as Finnick's observant eyebrow raises and he trains his eyes on his target, Clove, who sits erect on a crate of coal with her folder of accounts. Each time she raises her pen to try and get back to work, Haymitch sloppily knocks it out of her hands. As her tiredness gives way to frustration, Clove looks like she could be lethal to the next person who approaches her.

Whistling the Sinatra tune to himself, Finnick waves somewhat sheepishly at the accountant. The camera zooms in just in time to catch the pink tinge of the girl's cheeks as the corners of her lips turn into the cloest thing to a smile. She waves back.

Taking in the victory, Finnick's chest puffs with pride as he moseys up to an otherwise despondent Cato, who stands with a timer and reinforcement alcohol at attention for Haymitch.

"What do you think of Clove?"

Masking the obvious display of emotion that crosses his features with a large show of brushing Finnick off, Cato attempts to look listless. "I think she is an efficient worker and an asset to this office."

Finnick nods in agreement. "That she is indeed. I'm thinking about asking her out on a date. Let her go for a spin in the ol' Finn-mobile." To the cameras, he adds, "That's what I call my Mustang convertible."

Cato still stares blankly ahead, but anyone looking straight at him who hasn't been affected by the delirium of the Dance-A-Thon can see he is upset by this news.

"What do you think, ally?"

"I think it's inappropriate to date someone you work with," Cato answers back sharply, going to Haymitch like an automaton and filling the cones at the top of his drinking hat to the brim with liquor. He barely notices as Haymitch stumbles back and nearly spills everything all over Wiress. "I think you should date Madge, anyway."

Finnick purses his lips. "But…she works here too."

"She works in the Annex, which is basically like a whole different part of the District," Cato snaps. "While you're at it, playing Mister Male Escort, why don't you take Effie for a spin in the Finn-Mustang."

"It's Finn- _mobile_ …"

"This conversation has ended," Cato declares.

Finnick complies, and makes his way over to sweet talk some more with Clove while Cressida stays behind and has Messalla film from Cato's vantage point. Although the cameras cannot pick up what is being said over the music, it is clear Finnick has asked Clove out by the stiffening of her body. There is a slight moment of hesitation as her head turns and her eyes briefly flit upward to look at Cato. Cato looks away, pretending not to care. Blurred behind him is the image of Clove nodding her head and Finnick pumping his fists with joy.

Panning closely on Cato's otherwise unwavering expression, his eyes fill with unshed tears for the woman now slow dancing with Finnick Odair.

The crew is so focused on the small scale drama playing out before them that they fail to notice a fancy, Corporate-owned SUV pull into Gale's old spot from when he was a temp. Stepping out of the vehicle in a blaze of fury is a very well-dressed, sun-glass sporting Vice President of Regional Sales – looking even more out of place than he did while working in the District that he now oversees.

Gale whips off his sunglasses and runs a disbelieving hand over his beard in one suave motion. His gray eyes take in the scene of half-dead employees staggering about the room, where their frantic, wasted boss remains the centerpiece.

The reaction Gale has to the scene is edited out in post-production. It is loud enough, however, to garner Caesar's attention. Looking as if he is spotting a ghost, Caesar's mouth mutely hangs open as he shuts off the music. Everyone else, who had been somehow hypnotized by a combination of their delirium and the command of dancing to the sound of music, suddenly snaps back to life when the sound is removed.

Upon seeing his self-proclaimed prodigy, Haymitch lights up.

"Lumberjack Boy!" he slurs, grandiosely waving his arms about to the non-existent music. "Look, guys, it's Gale Hawthorne! Returning from his Iron Throne to help the Iron Deficient."

"That's not how the Iron Throne works," Beetee, a clear _Game of Thrones_ fan to the audience even without this statement, interjects. "You can't just _leave_ it…"

"Can it, Volts. Gale's here! And now he has a beard! Well, kind of a beard. He's trying..." Haymitch declares, sloppily enveloping Gale in a hug as he paws at Gale's new facial hair. The new Corporate manager shoves Haymitch off of him with little regard for where his former boss lands.

"God, Haymitch, you reek of alcohol. So you're drinking while you waste company time? The phone lines upstairs have been backed up for days. You're supposed to be working!" Gale, somehow still managing to sound shocked at the lack of productivity despite spending two years immersed in it, exasperates.

"We are working," Haymitch counters, tipping his flask back to his lips. "At finding a cure."

Alma, chest puffed with pride and eyes as cold and hard as steel, bravely approaches Gale – the man who took her job out from under her – and shakes his hand.

"Mister Hawthorne, a pleasure to see you again. I wish it were under less dire circumstances surrounding anemia."

Gale nods, swallowing audibly. Despite the recent shift in power, there is no pair of sunglasses powerful or expensive enough to conceal Gale's sense of inferiority looming between them.

"Likewise, Alma. Uh, what have you been up to?" Gale chokes out, which unintentionally triggers Coin into a tantrum about her lack of success as she storms off, muttering something about taking back what is rightfully hers. Gale wipes his sweaty hands on his pockets and nods to the cameras to signal that he's had enough of being filmed.

Madge, meanwhile, has spent the time between their phone call and Gale's arrival prepping, and decends the staircase to the warehouse in a dress so tight and low-cut and _bright pink_ it may not even be appropriate for the most inappropriate of workplaces.

"Oh, Gale's here?" she asks, loudly, to anyone who will listen. Tossing her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder, she puts on an air of nonchalance as she adds, "I don't care."

Gale rolls his eyes and starts waving to the small crowd of overworked employees. "Attention, Panem's District Twelve. I'd like to call a quick meeting right here with all of you."

"Everyone throw turkey at the temp!" Sae cackles, tossing lunchmeat from the warehouse fridge at Gale as she chuckles. It is clear she missed the memo that Gale was promoted at all. Still corralling everyone to join in, Sae jogs everyone's memory by reminding them of that "embarrassing time" in which "the Temp burned the place down with his panini". Madge, shrugging, plucks a piece from the plastic wrap and aims right for Gale's now-bearded face. It lands with a satisfying _smack_.

"Are _any_ of you rested enough to drive?" Gale ignores being pelted with food from the fridge asks this through gritted teeth. Reluctantly, Katniss and Peeta raise their hands. Haymitch makes a noise of betrayal.

"Great, that's great," Gale says, nodding. "Listen up, everyone. In order to keep you all safe, I'm going to have to ask you to evacuate the premises. Me, Peeta, and Katniss will escort everyone home…"

"Oh, uh. We…took one car," Peeta speaks at just above a whisper, avoiding eye contact with both Gale and the camera now readily pointed at him and a bright-red Katniss. The cameras pan over to Caesar, who would have eaten this up but is otherwise consumed with lethargically knocking over stacks of CDs.

"Okay, so Peeta and I will drive people home, and Katniss can come with me to help navigate," Gale amends. Leaning in toward Katniss, he keeps his voice low and asks, "Then after this, maybe you and I could grab an espresso or something. I only drink espresso now, and I'm recently single."

This earns another well-aimed piece of turkey in the face from a fuming Madge.

Katniss slowly shakes her head. "I'm, uh, no."

Gale balks at the somewhat harsh rejection. "What do you mean, no?"

"I'm…well, actually…I'm happily seeing someone right now."

As Gale awkwardly backs off, Caesar nearly drops his stack of CDs all over again when he spots Katniss stepping back toward Peeta and his hand protectively landing on her hip. It becomes clear, however, that he believes he is seeing things when he goes back to the turntables and announces to an emptying room that Table Five can go to the kosher buffet now as if he were at one of his Mitzvahs.

* * *

 _Still smiling to himself, Peeta shrugs in a joint private interview with Katniss outside the warehouse._

" _Yeah, unfortunately, we don't do espresso."_

 _"We're more of a tea couple," Katniss adds, nodding._ _"That man is kidding himself if he thinks I'd want to date him."_

" _Because you're happily seeing someone right now?" Peeta says as he stares down at her and adoringly repeats her words back to her._

 _Katniss rolls her eyes and sarcastically answers, "No, because I firmly believe the woman who dates Gale Hawthorne next is going to be killed by Madge Undersee."_

* * *

As people have begun to shuffle out of the warehouse, they are stopped by their belligerent boss.

"No, don't listen to him! I'm your manager, and you listen to me!" Haymitch squawks.

"Well, Haymitch, I'm _your_ boss," Gale says, voice threateningly low. "And I say you have to let your employees go home and sleep so that they can make up for what we've lost here in District Twelve today."

"Oh, don't talk to me like that, Kid. That's what you are, you know, just a kid. A stupid kid in a nice suit. You don't scare me! Nothing scares me!" Haymitch bellows, getting up on the stage he gave a check to a man dressed as Iron Man on just two days ago. He now has as much of everyone's half-lidded attention as he can muster.

Eyes dangerously unfocused and lips white, dry, and cracked, Haymitch continues spewing his impassioned speech.

"There is now one hour left of this Dance a Thon, and I will dance it alone if I have to, dammit. There are people in the world with nothing, and they're ugly, and they don't have enough money for arts education. This world is a terrible place filled with fickle human beings who do nothing to help and just make problems. Until now. Until today. I am the exception. Because I will beat anemia! It's been around for thousands of years, but it doesn't scare me! Death doesn't scare me! Nothing scares me!"

The cameras also focus on the crowd, who all watch in amazement and confusion.

"Should we stop him?" Katniss, one of the few coherent enough to understand what is happening, leans in and asks. "I feel like he's projecting."

"Hey, Haymitch," Peeta tries, stepping forward and clearing his throat, to reason with his manager. "It's okay to be afraid of death. You can't be the one person in the world to reverse it…"

"You don't know me," Haymitch spits. "You've just seen my penis."

Upon hearing this, and thinking it refers to the couple name he coined for his hypothesized pairing of Katniss and Peeta, Caesar perks up.

"Peeniss? My Peeniss?"

Beetee shakes his head, eyes drooping tiredly behind his glasses as he fights for his sanity. "No, Caesar. Peeta saw _Haymitch's_ penis."

Caesar, now convinced that his hopes for playing matchmaker have been completely thwarted, frowns a bit as he lazily locates the camera. "Well, that is a curveball even I could not anticipate coming, folks."

"Can someone please just shut him up?" Gale growls as Haymitch continues to parade about the stage ranting about the injustices in the world.

"Let him project all he wants," Cato miserably grumbles as he dodges some of the iron piping Haymitch throws from the stage. "Life is pointless and has no meaning, anyway. It's time we all hear it."

Haymitch does, indeed, continue to project – as in projectile vomits all over both Gale and Alma, the two people who have held the position that seems so often to get caught in Haymitch's web. It becomes even clearer than it was before that he has alcohol poisoning, which seems to shock Alma who had somehow thought he'd been sober all this time.

"You're drinking again?" Alma practically shrieks as she descends on a barely functioning Haymitch to scold him, despite the fact that he's blacking out at her feet.

Looking down at his expensive suit in disgust, Gale growls and starts stomping toward the exit.

"Shut this down, now," he demands. As he leaves, Madge follows like a puppy.

"Gale, we should go somewhere and talk about us…"

Gale sighs, wiping vomit from his lapel with little success. "Madge, there is no 'us' to talk about. You have to move on."

Madge blinks innocently, as if pretending to have selectively lost her hearing in the moment preceding this one. "But you're saying down the road there's a chance for us again?"

"This is the most pointless day I've spent at work," Gale says. "And I was here for the Office Games."

He turns away from her and gets into his car, all the while Madge waving him off as he speeds out of the lot.

"Call me!" she shouts.

Haymitch is carried off in a stretcher to the hospital, while medics begin arranging rides home for everyone else. Cato lingers behind and watches in muted horror as Finnick somehow coerces Clove to join him in his Mercedes. Crying out in anguish, he accidentally slips in the puddle of his boss' vomit and slams to the floor. Cato barely collects himself before running out of the warehouse to avoid the cameras catching him at undoubtedly his weakest point in three years.

After some time passes, Effie, still dancing, reemerges in the corner of the frame…as if everyone forgot about her up until this point and the camera crew just now decided to drop her back into the narrative of the pointless Dance-a-Thon.

"I suppose I am the winner! What a day," she says, body and full face of makeup still unharmed by the forty-eight hours of non-stop movement due to whatever Comet Elixir's power had been. "I do wish I could stop dancing now, however."

* * *

 _Several days after the much needed rest, the crew, all sporting visitor stickers, finds Haymitch propped up in a hospital bed and happily eating a hot plate of questionable food._

" _Finishing that Dance Marathon was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," he says, nodding reverently at the event that caused possibly more harm than help. "They pumped my stomach for about forty-five minutes after I danced for almost forty-eight hours."_

 _The crew recalls the footage of Haymitch's explosive vomit and the camera moves up and down as they nod along to remind him that they too remember the trauma of that day._

" _I binged more alcohol than I have ever drank, and I ate nothing while pre-gaming like a rookie! That's what happens when you try to sober up completely," he says this with a weak laugh, and the white, lumpy substance on his fork sloshes back onto the plastic tray in his lap. "But you know what, it was a triumph all around. I have guts and heart. And yes, while I did puke my guts out, I did not puke my heart out. That's the most important lesson I've learned from ending up here."_

 _He sips at his water and makes a face as he spits it back into the Styrofoam cup._

" _Ugh. Wish that was white liquor," he grumbles._

* * *

Haymitch is greeted with another unexpected visitor when Johanna, looking in much better health than when last confronted with the cameras, wheels herself into his hospital room. Her face has its color back and the bruising around her arms and chest has started to fade. She takes in the sight of her mangled boss, back in the throes of withdrawl, and sighs with some pity.

"Hey, JoJo," the manager says, eyes lighting up despite his otherwise beaten down features. Johanna feebly greets him in return. "The shaved-head look doesn't look so bad on you anymore…but maybe that's the drugs talkin'."

Johanna snorts as she wheels toward him. "They are good drugs, Old Man. You've at least got me agreeing with you there. Too bad they have your supply so low."

"'Is so I don't find somethin' else that numbs my pain t'get 'dicted to," Haymitch chuckles and until a bout of shivers puts him back in his usual terrible spirits. With a half-hearted grin, Johanna reaches into a plastic bag and pulls out a small bottle of cooking wine.

"I heard you were trying very hard to help me…even if you're the one who electrocuted me in the first place…so I brought you this. I'm technically re-gifting, but anyone who thinks I'm going near anything with gas or a socket any time soon is a moron. So, here."

"You brought this for me?" Haymitch, still delirious, is touched by the gesture.

"Think of it as a piece offering. The alcohol content is low enough that you can manage it when you're ready," Johanna explains. "But only then, you understand?"

Haymitch starts to open the bottle with haste, and Johanna, acting quickly, snatches it back.

"You ruin everything, you know that? Jeez," Johanna remarks, jamming the wine back into her bag. Haymitch lazily flops to his other side, which causes Johanna to laugh at the hysterics of the situation that brought them all here. "But I guess that keeps the job fun. See you at work, Haymitch."

"See ya."

Johanna pauses at the door, large brown eyes filled with scheming delight. "Oh, hey, by the way, I think, you know, since you electrocuted me and all, I should have an extra two weeks of paid time off. What do you think?"

Snickering, she takes her manager's half-hearted groan as a yes and leaves.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey! Long time, no see. I apologize for months of a delay, but between graduation and moving life's left little room to breathe, let alone write. But I have returned, at least for the moment! "Fun Run"is one of my all time favorite episodes of _The Office,_ and I hope this homage does it some justice. I know I'm reaching with some references and some satirized research on anemia here - none of it is meant to offend or be taken too seriously, I'm just playing in a humorous world to avoid the lack of humor in the real world. Let me know what you think, and I'll hopefully be back with a quicker update next time around! **

**Love always,**

 **ILoVeWicked**


End file.
